


Partners, Comrades, Friends

by LunaMax1214, mitisvenatrix



Series: Teandraverse [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, Male-Female Friendship, Teandraverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 70,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaMax1214/pseuds/LunaMax1214, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitisvenatrix/pseuds/mitisvenatrix
Summary: When the flirtatious warrior takes a hardened veteran under wing, both are left to wonder just who is being taught. A friendship fic with hints at something more, this is Teandra and Garrus' story, beginning on the Council steps.





	1. First Impressions

**Chapter 1: First Impressions**

 

It has been said among some cultures that first impressions are everything. It has also been said that appearances can be deceiving. Teandra Shepard was a prime example of the truth behind both these statements. Most humans, especially ones as small as this one, would never have approached much less spoken to a turian radiating anger as I surely was. Glaring, I glanced from that idiot Pallin (" _barefaced ben'jee"_ I thought) to see the newcomers approaching, my eyepiece automatically registering my adrenaline spike and calculating the trajectory needed to eliminate the three targets. Short in stature, Shepard would have been nondescript to me except for the air of danger and vulnerability that surrounded her, making her appear as both predator and prey all at once.

Peering up through a shock of red hair that curtained her face, she watched me gather myself and say, "Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian. I _was_ the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren."

Blue eyes took in my aggressive stance, and it was obvious she was calculating the best way to respond so as so appear empathetic, not at trait I was used to seeing in most of her kind. My former partner Shelaya notwithstanding, of course.

"Sounds like you really want to bring him down," she said with a nod towards the retreating Executor. The unspoken way she grasped my anger at both Pallin and Saren caught my attention, making me slightly more frank than I normally would have been to someone I only knew of by name, and then only from recent reports.

"Something about him rubs me the wrong way. But he's a spectre, _everything_ he touches is classified. I can't find any hard evidence." By the damn Spirits, I'd only needed another day at most. My sources were bringing me closer and closer. I was about to speak again when the male with Shepard chimed in. He was taller than Shepard by about a head, and had a possessive look towards her that made all of my detective's radars go off.

"Sounds like the Council is ready for us, Commander," he stated pointedly.

"Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they'll listen to you."

I was proud of myself for keeping the bitterness out of that last.

As the three walked away, I stalked towards the exit, working on formulating a plan of action. My muddled thoughts carried me all the way to my office, frustration biting at my heels. No way was I giving up this investigation so easily, especially not because of some arbitrary ruling by the Council. Look where that had gotten me with Saleon. Saren was a turian, a dishonest turian at that, and that made this personal. If his actions were as horrendous as I was beginning to suspect, he was violating every code our species lived by; everything that was ingrained in us from birth. Idly, I pulled up the screen at my desk, skimming with mild curiosity the information C-Sec's databases contained on Shepard. Anyone involved in taking Saren down was a potential ally. And after the run of assignments I'd received lately, one impossible to solve case after another, failure was not an option. My brain summarized the information:

_Born on the streets of Earth, no family, no connections. Joined the military at 16, against military regulations but with the support of war hero Anderson. Quick rise through the ranks. Perfect marks on the sniper range. High marks on the pistol and grenade ranges._

One word jumped out at me. _Akuze._ That was where the holovids I recalled came from. That would explain the air of vulnerability. It takes a special sort of someone to survive losing their whole unit, even among turians where military is a way of life. I continued to scan the page.

 _Recently reassigned as the_ Normandy _XO. Mission Classified._

Of course, why wouldn't the information be readily available? Since everything else had been _so_ easy lately.

Attached to the file was a holo, taken after Akuze according to the caption. I took in her features much as I had her history.

Chin length auburn hair, loose, pushing human military regulations if I recalled correctly. Piercing cerulean eyes sunken by lack of sleep, food deprivation, and shock. A set to the shoulders which gave the impression of a fortress holding by only a few more supports, but holding none the less. Yes, this Shepard was a portrait of contradiction. I snorted, noting the pale tone to her skin and pitying the human ambassadors that were scheduled to visit Palaven that week, if that was all the protection they had.

Still focused, I heard my screen ping.

 _Message: Dr. Michel._ Ah, one of my contacts. Idly, I opened the message, only to be taken back by both the length and the contents.

_I have been compromised! Come at once!_

_"A lead!"_ My brain registered, only belatedly wondering for the woman's safety.

I was already holstering my pistol as I went out the door.


	2. The Enemy of My Enemy

**Chapter 2- The Enemy of my Enemy**

Michel's door was already open when I arrived, unusual in and of itself since privacy was a requirement in her line of work. Quietly, I engaged the infrared sensor on my eyepiece and drew my pistol, ducking down beneath a half-partition as I moved closer to better hear the conversation taking place inside.

"Did you really think we would allow you to just walk away?" a male voice sneered, his contempt evident. There was a scuffling movement and a frightened cry. A short glance was enough to assess the situation.

_Three targets. Weapons - Kessler I, Lancer I, Raikou VI. One civilian. Stress levels elevated._

No _verna_. Where the hell did _he_ get a Raikou? And it was pointed right at Michel. I crept in, head down, keeping my body crouched below the wall. I risked another glance, but found no clear shot. Michel was too close to the end of that pistol.

"I didn't tell anyone, I swear."

"That was smart, Doc. Now, if Garrus comes around, you stay smart. Keep your mouth shut or we'll…"

The door to the room came open, and Shepard walked in flanked by the male and a krogan. I did a double take. Where the hell did _she_ get a krogan? I was starting to think I didn't know the city underworld at all anymore.

"Who are you?"

"Let her go," was Shepard's only reply, her voice icy.

No hesitation. I moved around the corner, observed the arm around Michel's neck, and took the shot. Lancer and Kessler were down seconds later, one to my pistol and one to Shepard's.

"Perfect timing Shepard. You gave me a clear shot at that bastard." My adrenaline soared at the take-down, pride at the shot overwhelming my momentary fears for Michel's safety.

"What were you _thinking_?" The anger in Shepard's voice and stance were apparent, and her weapon still at the ready. "You could have hit the hostage."

I blinked. "There wasn't time to think. I just reacted. I didn't mean to—Doctor Michel, are you hurt?" She glanced up at me, half-grateful/half-afraid, and replied, "No, I'm okay. Thanks to you. All of you."

Shepard turned from me dismissively, her attention solely on Dr. Michel, "I know those men threatened you. But if you tell us who they work for we can protect you."

I stopped and looked, _really_ looked at Shepard. She had just calmly taken out a thug twice her size, berated me in a tone I'd only ever heard from my commanding officers, and was now attempting to both comfort the Doctor and get her information at the same time. This human knew what she was doing, manipulating the people around her as easily as flexing a muscle. I barely listened to the conversation, though, choosing to instead observe, with professional curiosity, how Shepard adjusted her tactics to Dr. Michel's every statement. She'd have made a great investigator, let me say that. The information she received for her efforts was nothing new, however. Fist: All paths led to Fist. Subconsciously I took in the information about the quarian and the Shadow Broker, interjecting as necessary, but consciously I was watching Shepard's companions: the male with that obsessed look, the krogan with grudging admiration. Here were two troops who would follow her to the ends of the galaxy, and I'd gotten a similar impression from her earlier companion as well.

As I reflected on Shepard's file and our brief interactions, it became clear that perhaps she was an ally worth working with. Not to say that there wasn't an appeal in circumventing the C-Sec red tape that deterred me from pursuing Saren, as well. Besides, Pallin had been trying to drive me out for months anyway. My dad wasn't going to like me working with a human, much less a potential Spectre candidate, but I doubted he'd actually _disown_ me. So, what did I have to lose in joining her? _Nothing important,_ I reflected bitterly, as I contemplated the job I was beginning to loathe more and more every day. As she began to leave the room, I caught her attention.

"This is your show Shepard, but I want to take down Saren as much as you do. I'm coming with you." It wasn't phrased as a request, and I could tell she didn't appreciate that. She also somehow seemed to sense my determination. Or maybe my desperation. As such, all she said was,

"Welcome aboard, Garrus." No, questions or distrust, just action. Yes, I think this human and I just might get along…


	3. Shock and Awe

**Chapter 3- Shock and Awe**

Say what you want about military range score accuracies in general, but Commander Shepard did _not_ cheat to get her perfect marks. This person, this _woman_ , who had addressed me as an equal, berated me as a subordinate, and welcomed me as a comrade, was in the process of astounding me with her sniper skills. She was perhaps the best, excluding myself, I'd ever seen. I watched her coolly eliminate three of Fist's men with a measured "plink, plink, plink" from her Harpoon, only to switch to her pistol and take out another target directly to her left. She paused momentarily to toss a grenade at the man approaching the bottleneck from our right, snapping me out of my slack-jawed reverie in time to snipe the last man behind the far side of the bar.

"Hey, Vakarian, make me do all the work, will ya? Want to go wait it out with Kaidan?" There was a teasing lilt to her voice that killed my hot reply before it was voiced.

 _Heightened heart rate, elevated blood pressure, dilated pupils, breathing steady_ my ever enlightening eyepiece informed me. Many years of interrogations led me to one conclusion: she was enjoying this. My father's warnings about humanity's vicious retaliation in the Relay 314 Incident, only slightly tempered by my mother's more favorable stories, were brought to mind forcefully. To hear my Dad tell it, we'd been driven back mercilessly, with no chance at surrender, not that any self-respecting turian would violate _that_ code of honor. Seeing Shepard's display coupled by a complete lack of consideration for the carnage she was creating made me inclined to agree with my father, much as it pained me to admit it. _What have I gotten myself into?_ Still, the evidence on Saren was waiting, and this was no time to back out.

As we rounded the corner of the bar in Chora's Den towards Fist's office, she focused on her omni-tool long enough to override the locking mechanism, then immediately retrained her pistol in front of her.

Two civilians stood in front of us, cheap pistols aimed in our general direction, rattling slightly in their shaking hands.

"Stop, or I'll… I'll shoot," one managed to stutter. I waited for Shepard to follow her pattern and service the targets before moving on. Instead, she aimed her Razer downwards, though still at ready, and said, "Time to find a new line of work, boys." Her voice was playful, but carried a cold edge, leaving no room for negotiations. It stated, in no uncertain terms, "Listen, or die."

They hesitantly glanced at each other for half a second, then dropped their pistols with a metallic clatter and hurried off before their luck ran out. My picture of the girl was continuing to grow, becoming more complex as we encountered new obstacles. I was good at reading people; it was one of the reasons I made such a good detective. But I'll be damned if I could get a solid read on her. Then again, I'd met turians who responded to battles in much the way she was. But a human?

"It would have been faster to shoot them," Wrex remarked.

Recalling our earlier conversation in Doctor Michel's office, I retorted with only a _small_ trace of sarcasm, "Bullets aren't the way to solve every problem."

Shepard either didn't hear or didn't care to comment on the sarcasm. She quieted us with a stopping motion, creeping forward to peek around the corner of Fist's office. The half-second glance gave her all the information she needed to calculate her trajectory before throwing a perfectly timed grenade. Fist and the two turrets were downed.

She approached and calmly questioned him, barely getting the information we needed on the quarian before…

 _BAM-_ Wrex's shotgun blew his head apart.

"The Shadow Broker sends his regards."

Shock and anger registered on Shepard's face, though she schooled it quickly as she began speaking in clipped tones. "Don't you EVER pull a stunt like that again," she said through gritted teeth, " _Or I'll knock you on your krogan ass"_ she continued under her breath _._ I snorted at the idea of the little thing taking out a krogan, not that it seemed _quite_ so impossible after the display I had witnessed over the last few minutes. Maybe she'd had special forces training. That would explain the callousness and the skill. On the heels of that idea came another one, _By the Spirits, what could turian training have done for this woman...?_

My strange thought was interrupted by Shepard going into motion, assuaged by the krogan's obviously half-hearted assurance that he would wait until she was _done_ interrogating prisoners before shooting them next time. I couldn't help but be amused as I watched Wrex follow suit towards the doorway. Our evidence against Saren (and the quarian with it), was walking into a lethal ambush, and both would probably need our help even as we stood there. Yet on the way out the door, Shepard still found a moment to glance at Fist's body, muttering something that sounded like, "Is it dead?" before chuckling softly. Shaking my head, I followed the Spectre, not completely sure I was prepared for the things she would drag me into.


	4. I SAID I Was Competitive

**Chapter 4- I SAID I Was Competitive**

Three minutes…

I mean, who _really_ could make it halfway through the wards in three minutes, even discounting all of Fist's angry men between us and this elusive quarian? But, as my father used to say, "You'll only see a turian's back once he's dead." It was time to show Commander Shepard it wasn't my charm and good looks that got me into C-Sec's Detective Division.

Snugging my rifle into my plating, I focused on my visor, taking in heat signature all over the place: _Multiple targets. Lancer II on four signatures…_

I ceased to pay attention to the scrolling information, settling in and welcoming the trancelike embrace that comes instinctively to any sniper worth the name. Just you, the scope, and the target.

 _Breathe, Hold…_ Plink… _Breathe, Hold…_ Plink…

The pattern repeated itself over and over. Time ceased to exist as four targets went down in a matter of seconds, training and instinct over-riding thought and planning. When the final signature within Chora's Den went down, I glanced at Shepard to see a look of admiration, quickly replaced by one of challenge.

"Okay, maybe you CAN hit the broad side of a barn."

The phrasing was unfamiliar, but the meaning was unmistakable. If not for the mischievous glint in her eye, I would never have known she was laughing at me. While under time constraints. In the middle of a firefight, no less.

Face blank, I snorted and turned my rifle in her direction. An betrayed look crossed her face as I caressed the trigger, sending a bullet within inches of her shoulder plating before hitting it's target, the forehead of the merc who'd just come through the front door. Belatedly I registered her hand on her pistol.

She glanced back, eyes returning to my face in a strange human reflection of my own smirk.

"Nice shot, Vakarian. Let's move."

Two minutes…

Okay, I'll admit it. I think the Commander and I spent more time trying to be the first to drop each target, rather than focusing on getting to the ambush site. My blood soared at the competition; it was the best stress relief I'd had in months. Failed case after failed case: the red sand smuggling ring, Dr. Saleon, Saren. All left me feeling worthless as a detective and a turian, whether or not Pallin ever said anything aloud. But this? _This_ was a challenge I was up for, with my eyes closed if necessary.

As we came over the stairway to the meeting place, we heard a conversation in progress.

"Don't worry, he'll be here…" A turian purred as he reached out to possessively run a single talon down the face mask of the quarian in front of him.

 _See, it's_ ben'jees _like him that give other species the wrong ideas about turians. Can't_ imagine _why they won't trust us to do anything but be their military when shining examples like him populate every major city._

She stepped back in disgust, hands jerking defensively to her holstered shotgun. "No way. Deal's off…"

His response to her rejection was a quickly drawn pistol.

I lined up the shot, processing information as it came. _Distance: 20m. Air speed and resistance: 0._

As I gently squeezed the trigger between breaths, I heard a second shot to my left.

"Missed," I informed her triumphantly, indicating with a nod the single entry wound in the turian's carapace.

"Yes, you did," was her smug reply. We glanced at each other.

"A little help here please," came Wrex's gruff voice as he fired an inferno round into a nearby merc, setting him aflame. "Unless you two just want to clean each others rifles here in the hallway." Another target caught fire, round through the chest.

Sending the krogan a disgusted look, I milked the trigger, downing two more of Fist's men. The third and fourth were down, via Shepard, before I could even adjust my sights in their direction.

Rising from her kneeling position, Shepard approached the quarian, hands placed in open sight away from her weapons.

Tali'zorah. A young quarian on her pilgrimage. How the girl had managed to retrieve evidence of Saren's involvement from the memory core of a disabled geth, something I would have never thought possible, I had no idea. But the girl had quad, demanding a meeting with the Shadow Broker. I had to give her that at least. Head tilted, she played the recording, not even hesitating to share her information with Shepard. Considering how protective she'd been of it not moments before, I just took this as one more example of what a skilled talker the N7 was.

Regardless, listening to the voices in their treacherous plotting, there was no way Saren was getting away this time. Obviously impressed by the young girl's work, Shepard invited her to join the ever expanding _Normandy_ crew. Time I used to walk over to the fallen turian.

I knelt to examine the bullet hole, hoping to prove it had been my Volkov and not her Harpoon that had penetrated. The slugs from each weapon had a distinctly different burn pattern created by their entry, which should make it easy enough to settle our disagreement. Looking more closely, nose only inches from the wound, I stared in disbelief at the evidence my eyes were showing me.

I pulled back to my kneeling position as Shepard approached, laughing to myself. I could tell from her expression as she knelt next to me, a smirk touched by a twinkle in her eyes that could only be interpreted as amusement, that she had realized what I'd just determined moments before…

Both patterns were present. The bullets had entered in exactly the same spot.


	5. Conversations

**Chapter 5- Conversations**

_At least we're out of the Citadel_ , I paused to reflect, as I inspected the weapons systems of the MAKO in fascination. It was the first thing that actually gave me a sense of peace on this ship, reminding me of my days in the turian military. I might have been an MP, but everyone had secondary skills to make missions easier. Mine, ironically enough, was working on the vehicles and bigger portable equiment. It was one of the places, other than behind the scope, that having a sniper's slightly more delicate hands became an asset. The fact that most on this ship, save perhaps Wrex, would consider _delicate_ an unusual term to apply to any turian was not lost on me. But I still didn't regret the decision to leave my entire life. Yes, it had been a spontaneous one, the kind of rash move that made my father radiate disapproval, but he wouldn't see that I was already being railroaded out long before the Saren case came up. "Too impulsive and ambitious," one evaluation had indicated. "Dedicated to the takedown," another had commented, not necessarily as a complement. As turians go, I was a horrible example of the species. But at least I wasn't Saren. I wasn't a traitor to the Homeworld, or the Heirarchy.

That slippery lizard had been dancing, unproven but there, at the edge of my cases for a long time now. Always mocking, "thumbing his nose" was how Shelaya had put it, he seemed to have his talons in everything associated with the technological and scientific underworld. My partner had wanted Saren caught too, had actually been the one to notice the developing trend in crime _increases_ every time he hit the Citadel, a pattern contrary to what was normal when the lawkeepers appeared. She had also been essential in developing the information network that we hoped would trap him in his own lies, using her exemplary undercover skills to infiltrate the Skyllian Five clubs that fronted for gang base of operations.

And now she was dead, a "bystander" in a drug takedown. And _I_ had been told forcefully to let it go, or I would lose my job. It had seemed dishonorable to relinquish access to the information that would avenge her death, to allow all her hard work to go down the trash chute.

By the damn Spirits, I was _good_ at my job. I saw the scum of the Citadel on a daily basis rampage about like they were in charge. And at first, I had been content to quietly wait for them to trip themselves; to leave me the proof I needed to send them off to the nearest prison frigate. Ironically enough, I had been content, though never happy, with that life. Saleon had changed that. _Riza,_ _Shelaya_ had changed that. I wasn't exactly an advocate for humanity, but I wasn't against working with one, and she had been just as good as any other C-Sec officer. Plus, her lessons in human idioms and sayings, coupled with my own research into human history as more of their species began to roam the Citadel, were working to my advantage now.

My mandibles flared at the memory of my first mission with Shepard. Damn, it felt good to be in the field again. To be taking the shot instead of filing the paperwork (in triplicate). I shouldn't have been stagnating… it wasn't the way turians functioned. Eventually, though, I _still_ might even have accepted that life, if not for Shepard. She had given me hope that maybe Saren's downfall, and that of the geth, wasn't impossible after all.

I looked up as the object of my thoughts got off the elevator. She took a quick look around, then headed back towards the FTL drive. Consulting with the engineer I presumed. Yet when she didn't come back right away, my curiosity got the better of me and I decided to practice a few of my rusty infiltrator skills. Sticking to the shadows and creeping up the corridor, I prided myself on not even disturbing the somewhat distracted requisitions officer intently comparing invoices. What I heard once I got further down the hallway stopped me in my tracks:

"When my people reach maturity, we leave our birth ships and seek acceptance with a new crew…" Tali was saying. Shepard continued to pester her with questions about everything from the flotilla itself to the creation the geth. Just by listening to her voice, you could tell it wasn't just a mandatory discussion. She was genuinely interested in what the young quarian had to say. I backed away cautiously, disbelief warring with a new respect in regards to the Commander.

And more conversations followed. I halfheartedly continued my work on the MAKO, employing my exceptional hearing to eavesdrop. I listened to Wrex's recollections of Saren (he and I going to have to talk. Hopefully the cargo area would survive). I listened to her quietly, but firmly, reprimand Williams for her "misguided" views of the rest of the galaxy, though I was more inclined to agree with her after some of my former cases. I watched as she examined her crew's gear, seeing what was in need of repair and who needed new equipment altogether, before letting the acquisitions officer know the results. Then her attention was on me, and suddenly, I was nervous.

I had lived my entire life under orders from someone: my father, my CO, the Executor, and approval was as necessary as breathing. The entire crew was beginning to understand the Commander's way of thinking, but I had a feeling my own views would be met with less than favorable scrutiny. I was right.

"Commander, how are you?" I spoke lightly, setting down the datapad in my hands, as if I had only just noticed her approach.

"Busy as always, but never too busy for my crew. I'd like to know more about everyone, especially considering how new this experience is for all of us…" She paused, then went on in a questing tone that didn't match her words, "A mixed crew on a vessel that was a joint project between humans and turians. History in the making, Garrus."

I nodded my assent, getting the impression her statement about mixed species was meant to gauge my reaction as much as anything else. The memory of the warrior I had battled beside was still there under the surface, but this was a different side of Shepard's personality: interested, involved, and curious. I found myself wondering if there were other parts of her personality that had yet to be revealed.

"So Garrus, why did you want to be a C-Sec officer in the first place?" The question came out of the blue, seemingly a standard conversational formality. As a result, I started to give her some short answer, the obligatory responses of duty and honor. But the genuine interest in her face contrasted with that view, and caused me to stop and consider before answering.

"Hmm. That's a good question. There were several reasons I guess." Maybe she'd leave it at that. Family history and personal justice were topics I was loathe to breach after the last conversation I'd had with my father.

"Such as?" she pursued. She wasn't letting it go, though she _did_ seem to sense my trepidation, because she said a little sheepishly, "Sorry, but you're the first turian I've gotten to talk to that wasn't trying to size me up." Meaning Nihlus, I would assume. Funny thing was, _any_ turian she had or would ever meet would try to size her up on first glance. It was as much a part of our survival instinct as it was our culture. The fact that she didn't realize that caused me to take pity on her. She was in for a _rude_ awakening before she'd finished her first month as a Spectre, that was for sure.

Sighing, I answered after some consideration, "Probably the same as most officers. I wanted to fight injustice, wanted to help people. I guess my father had something to with it too. He was C-Sec. One of the best. I grew up hearing about his accomplishments or seeing his picture on the vids after a big arrest. He's taking my resignation pretty hard." And that, as they say, was the understatement of the galaxy. His final words had been like individual blows through the monitor: ' _Don't bother coming home when you fail_.'

"That's tough. But you'd think he be impressed you're going after Saren." Where to even begin with that? It would require at least an hour long discussion on turian lifestyle and family structure, a conversation I just wasn't in the damn mood for. After a moment's thought, I decided a modified version the truth would be best. Might as well let her know my position now.

"My father's a C-Sec man to the bone. 'Do things right, or don't do them at all,' he says. He thinks I'm being too rash, too impatient." The venom in his voice still stung from that discussion, fresh in my memory as it was. "He's worried I'll become just like Saren. Actually talked me out of becoming a Spectre when I was younger for the same reasons."

The conversation regarding that choice was still as fresh as the day we'd had it: _"No son of mine's running off on some damn vigilante spree, dragging the Vakarian name I've worked so hard to build through the quagmire. You want to take down the dangerous people in the galaxy? You do it by the book. You join C-Sec."_ And that was his final say on the matter.

Little did I realize what she would latch on in my statement.

"You were asked to be a Spectre?" The admiration in her voice was apparent, the last thing I was anticipating at the moment, considering her own newly assigned status. My father had always been very adamant about his opinions on circumventing the law, and the Spectres embodied that completely. But I had always admired them, the way they just got the job done no matter what. They never failed. So to hear the awe coming from someone who was supposed to _be_ one of these hardened warriors disarmed me. It was hard to remind myself that she had only _been_ a Spectre for a day or so, so enamored of the job I had become over the years.

Still, suddenly embarrassed, I amended, "Well, I was targeted as a possible Spectre candidate. Me, and about a _thousand_ other turian military recruits. I could have received special training, but my father didn't like it. He _despises_ the Spectres. Completely hates the idea of someone having unlimited power with no accountability…" hesitating, I charged on, "He wouldn't like you, Commander. No offense."

She laughed, a sound I hadn't heard from her before. It was high, musical, and very, well, un-turian. It was also unexpected, as was her reply. "I suppose I can understand his concern…" She spoke more like a politician delivering a treaty than a person, and it annoyed the hell out of me. I flared my mandibles, not sure if the expression translated but unable to contain my disbelief at her statement.

"You can?" She was being awfully open-minded. The way she seemed to be trying to make peace with every statement I made bit me to the core. I found myself wanting to break through that tactful barrier, needed to make sure my point was getting across at that moment, "Saren's not gonna play by our rules, or C-Sec's rules. If you want to nail Saren, you need to send someone who isn't restricted by policies and procedures. _That's_ what Spectres are there to do."

And there was the crux of why I was here, on this ship, turning my back on everything I'd ever known. Maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to get something done for a change. Her response was softly spoken, much as her reprimand to Williams had been earlier. There was no anger, no annoyance in turn, only a solid conviction that left no room for debate.

"Just because you can break the rules doesn't always mean you should. I _won't_ stoop to Saren's level to stop him. Won't become the thing I am hunting to catch him." She stopped, as if considering whether her next statement was too harsh. Then, she squared her shoulders, and looked me directly in the eyes in spite of the height difference. "And you don't need to either, Garrus."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, couldn't even _begin_ to formulate a reply, so all I said was, "I think I see what you mean, but… I'll think about it."

That seemed to satisfy her. She started to walk away, then paused, the quick turn back causing her hair to swing slightly. "We're going after Benezia's girl tomorrow. I'd like you on my team. Ready for some action?" That playful tone was back, as if the anticipation of shooting something just made her all warm and fuzzy. Taking note of her tone, I laughed as I quipped back:

"Always, Commander. Someone's got to actually _hit_ something with a sniper rifle."

She laughed again, and I realized to my surprise I had been trying to provoke it this time. The idea startled me, almost as much as my own laugh had. I have always been a relatively happy person, but my life since leaving the military had been more stressful than I ever could have imagined. Still, I had managed to find time for myself until the night Shelaya died. I had become obsessed with my cases, only to have the next criminal slip right past me with a ship full of hostages. Laughter had not been on the top of my list for a while, let's put it that way, and the sound felt strange to hear.

"We'll see, Vakarian. We'll see."

And then, she was gone.


	6. Reflections

**Chapter 6- Reflections (Shepard)**

I woke drenched in cold sweat, fists clenched, voice hoarse from my screams, ears aching from the dying echo.

"Not again," I whispered dejectedly, remembering the five weeks of interrupted nights I'd endured since arriving on the SR1. At least it wasn't Akuze this time. Or the Protheans, my _new_ hell. No, this time it was my old companion, my time with the Reds. And the events that drove me away from them, into the Alliance military.

I stood, physically shaking myself as if I could rid my head of the memories like so much water. Sleep, I surmised, was not happening anytime soon. Too much stress, too many obstacles and burdens. I had gone from simply being the survivor of Akuze to potential hero of the galaxy in less than forty-eight hours, and my body and mind were still reeling from the implications. I glanced around the room, futilely trying to find anything to focus my tired mind upon other than my personal hell, when my gaze fell upon the datapad containing the files for my new crew. I had been putting off reading them, preferring to speak to my shipmates themselves, but knew eventually I would have to just get it over with.

 _Might as well get some work done._ My less than tranquil mental state made the decision before I could even debate with myself.

I had never been one inclined to xenophobia. I'd seen my own species commit atrocities so heinous that I could never arbitrarily state their ideas or morals were superior. But the Council and their disbelief, if only for a moment, made me reconsider my point of view.

I reflected back over the last few days as I mindlessly punched through the datapad: the shock of being considered as a Spectre, the deaths of Jenkins and Nihlus, Udina's scorn, the council's wrath… one emotional bump after another. How I had managed not to physically harm someone was beyond me, especially considering the unfamiliar people I was surrounding myself with. The new faces that were now littered among the crew I had been working alongside for the past month, a crew that now belonged to me, left me plenty of fodder for my paranoid tendencies.

Pausing, I considering my new team and my status as Captain of the _Normandy_ , then brought up the files on each of them. Working my way through them one by one, I analyzed and reflected upon each individual, absently observing the random snippets of information and summing them up in my head. Holovids, photos, and evaluations were electronically attached to each file, and I skimmed them over in much the same way I would if I were reading an intelligence file. In that case, absorbing without observing was key. It brought to light details that you might otherwise miss.

 **Kaidan Alenko** : An L2 biotic with lingering eyes. Yes, I had noticed his attentions. After Akuze, this hero worship became a not uncommon problem. But I was no hero, and I gave him a month before my mood swings and idiosyncrasies drove him back to his corner, confused but unscathed by my personal demons. His biotic skills, however, were well above par for my limited exposure to biotics. As long as he could fight, I would consider him nothing less than an asset.

 **Ashley Williams** : _Member of the 212th, recently reassigned to the_ SSV Normandy _under the command of Teandra Shepard_. Her skills with any weapon were top. She, among all the others, would seem the one I would gravitate towards for conversation. But it only took one such example to realize she loathed any non-human species, not so much on a personal level as an intellectual one. Something she was working on, since she herself admitted that much of her distrust was a lack of exposure to the non-human races. Considering her service record, this was an anomaly, one that digging further into her file didn't clarify. Asking her about it had prompted her to change the subject. Maybe in time, she would trust me enough to give me the whole story. In the meanwhile, that intolerance would be my personal goal to overcome.

 _"I'm sure her close proximity to the krogan will help with that_ ," I thought with a half-hearted chuckle, moving on to the member himself.

 **Wrex Urdnot** : Where to begin? If there was any crew member I was unsure of it was him. And I could honestly say his race didn't even play a factor. His little stunt in Fist's office with the shotgun had set me on edge more than I had let on, in spite of the fact that I knew the man's demise was his goal. He'd assured me of his loyalty, and I respected his work as both a soldier and a mercenary, but I wouldn't be letting my guard down around him anytime soon. At least not until I was sure he'd keep his word. I planned on taking him on a few missions anyway, as the sheer psychological effect of having a krogan at my back would be enough to finish most fights before they ever started.

 **Tali'zorah Nar Rayya** : My first exposure to a quarian had left me curious about their race in general. Several enlightening conversations had drawn me closer to the woman, who distinctly reminded me of Carra, a young girl I had known in the Reds. While her tech abilities were unsurpassed by anyone I'd ever met, I worried about taking her into a firefight. But her presence on the _Normandy_ not only had it running more smoothly than ever before, but had served as a bridge between the humans of the crew and the more difficult to relate to of the council races aboard the _Normandy_. This was even more ironic if you considered the galaxy's overall view of them as space gypsies. However, the image of the girl draped in colorful scarves was not really a stretch of the imagination. She was extremely energetic and enthusiastic, especially when you were talking about anything related to ships. She's already managed to worm her way into Pressly and Adams confidences, and was well on the way into everyone elses. She was my prime example of how stereotypes were not indicitive of the individual. A lesson I wish everyone could apply to our final member.

 **Garrus Vakarian** : The crew had not taken well to the quiet turian, memories of the First Contact War still too raw to overcome lightly. _What did the turians call it again? Right. The Relay 314 Incident._ As for me? I could care less about some fight that took place about the time I was a blip on an ultrasound. But I wasn't sure what to make of the turian either. My expectations of the his people had always made it seem a militaristic and honorable culture, kind of like the Spartans of old, full of warrior drones with little imagination. While people like Nihlus had begun to change that view, the turian people's general opinion of humanity forced me to keep my own guard up. Just because _I_ didn't care about Shanxi didn't mean there weren't factions out there that did. I wouldn't allow their views to taint my own, however. Then when you considered Garrus… well, my view was becoming further skewed. He was passionate, dedicated, and determined; had an intensity about him that shouted youthful overconfidence. I scanned his file, realizing that I actually had him beaten by a few years in that department. He had served his turian service years split between the turian military and C-Sec, with assignments ranging from his most recent job as a detective, as well as time as an Military Police, Heavy Mechanic, Infiltration Specialist (with sniper specialty), Weapons Maintenance and Programming, and as a Mess Cook. I wasn't entirely sure how the turian military differed from the Alliance one, but anyone who cycled through that many MOS's as a marine was sure to be a problem child who had issues with authority.  Then again, that seemed to fit... then, my eyes jumped back up as I did a double take.

 _Mess cook? Really? Never would have pinned_ that _one in a million years._

I looked over the rest, the results of his recent cases (the information that was available, at least) making me less than envious of the criminals he pursued. Justice was more than a job for him, from the looks of his closure rate, but more of a personal mantra. Some of his views could probably use a little tempering to keep him from straying into Frank Castle territory one day, but... yeah, if I were honest with myself, his relatively naïve view of the galaxy as a place that one person could still make a difference in was refreshing. It had been a very long time since I had believed that to be true, and I had a feeling time around the officer just might bring me a little closer to that youthful innocence I had lost so long ago.

In a twisted way, he wasn't so different from the Irregulars when we had first formed. We had started as a fed up group of street kids, terrorizing the corrupt pimps and shop owners. Earth was still civilized in most areas, but some places were left behind in the technological advances unlocked by the Artifact. These dark places still housed populations, but they served as the Gotham City of neighborhoods: shiny on the surface, but rotting underneath. We had just been trying to survive unhindered, to not be relegated to the roles of prostitutes and thieves. We'd succeeded for a while, in spite of opposition. Things only changed when…

 _NO_.

I wasn't going back there again tonight. Not after the living hell of dreaming it. Still, my wistful brain added the note that if more cops like Garrus had been on Earth, men who were willing to protect the people around them at all costs... well, people like Finch would have a harder time taking root. The way in which we'd effortlessly synched our sniper shots on the turian assaulting Tali was amazing on so many levels. My competitive edge was piqued, and I grinned, contemplating a sniping contest at the first opportunity we could get.

Sighing, I turned the datapad off reluctantly and forced myself back towards my bunk, praying that the distractions provided by the work would assuage the Angst Fairy for a while. Sleep was needed, our mission for the morning one I didn't have all the details on. We were going in search of Benezia's daughter, a possible traitor, and who knew what we would be up against.

Yet, my mind lulling towards sleep, I couldn't help but think about one idealistic turian. For some strange reason, it calmed me, the image of dual sniper scopes invading my dreams.


	7. Hard Work and Exercise

**Chapter 7- Hard Work and Exercise**

I crouched down, narrowly avoiding an energy blast from the Armature. To my left, behind a second crate, Shepard had ducked down, trying to get Kaidan on his feet. I snap shot a Ghost, buying us breathing space for a moment.

"Why, exactly," I yelled over the din, "did we bring the biotic again?"

"Because he insisted," was her terse reply. Throwing her hands up in disgust as her charge refused to awaken to her ministrations, she reshouldered her rifle and dropped the next target that got within her considerable range. I moved up, taking my own shot as she resumed speaking.

"Besides, he makes a _great_ distraction for the geth," her halfhearted joke was punctuated by a grenade thrown at the Armature, dropping its shields, as her rifle cooled back down.

Moving up for another shot elicited a quick cry of "Drop," sending me sprawling back behind the crate. An energy bolt had just passed through the space where my head would have been.

"You know, we _really_ could use Wrex's shotgun right about now. Or even Tali's grenades, assuming she's speaking to me again…"

The young quarian and I had been playing harmless practical jokes on each other since settling in on the _Normandy_. In my defense, she _had_ started it. I had gone to log into the MAKO's drive programming systems one day, only to be greeted by some game involving two paddles and a bouncing ball that I _could not_ get rid of for almost two hours. I'd paid her back by reprogramming her omni-tool, and things had escalated from there. My most current escapade had involved swapping the sweeter nutrient paste she used as her midnight snack for _pashar_ paste. I was gleefully awaiting her response to the bitter fruit facsimile.

She reminded me, in many ways, of the younger sister I had left back on Palaven. Mishta was always the playful one, and the back and forth was just the kind of thing she and I used to do, much to Sol's distress.

"' _Rus, hurry up! We're going to miss all the good bushes." The young girl is running full bore, barely winded, as Sol and I rush to keep up behind her._

" _I'm coming, I'm coming, Mishta. Not all of us are as quick as you." I puff. I_ am _fast, but she is faster._

" _Maybe you should lay off the_ kilaka _fruit today, then,_ pika-pooka," _Sol comments, laughing. It is out of character for her to be in such a good mood, but then again, it is harvest day._ Everybody _is in a good mood today._

"Any time now, Vakarian. I'm running out of grenades…" The banter that voice threw my way was very different from my sisters', and interrupted the memory. I swept aside that brief second of homesickness, once again focusing on assassinating the Armature.

"What's wrong Spectre? Getting out shot by the lowly C-Sec officer?" I quipped. I almost missed her evil glare as I took down the machine with a final shot… almost.

"Vakarian, I'm going to come up with a suitably evil solution to that cocky attitude of yours one of these days." The lull allowed us both to cool our rifles as Kaidan regained his feet in a daze.

Grinning, I couldn't help but respond, "I wait with bated breath, Commander," as we moved forward once again.

 

* * *

 

"Have I mentioned lately that I _really_ hate underground mines? Especially the kind with shaky ventilation shafts getting ready to come down on our heads?"

 

"If you have time to be a smart ass, Vakarian, you have time to make the biotic hurry the hell up. Take point." I pushed forward, nudging Kaidan to run faster as we scrambled up the precarious walkways, pushing towards safety and dodging falling debris. The asari we had just freed (against my better judgment, I might add) was keeping up as best she could, and I resisted the urge to throw her over my shoulder. Shepard wouldn't take one step past the girl in order to make sure she remained safe, and the situation was becoming more precarious. I never should have doubted.

We made it out, Shepard doubling over next to the fallen asari and gasping to the sound of the shaft crashing behind us, "I've gotta… start… working out again…" She panted as she tucked her hair behind both ears. And yet, while I wasn't familiar enough with human physiology to be sure, I was almost positive she was exaggerating her breathing.

Kaidan eyed her warily, somehow finding it necessary to comment, "Think you could have cut that any closer?" in Shepard's general direction.

Face scrunching up at the accusatory "you," she cut off her panting midbreath and retorted, "Sure, we had a _couple_ more milliseconds..." She caught my attention as she trailed off, raising one eyebrow, before minutely inclining her head towards Kaidan. I raised an eye ridge in turn, questioning. She inclined her head twice this time, more insistently. I nodded as I realized what she wanted, flaring my mandibles in an evil grin at her mischievousness.

"W **atch out** …!" I yelled in what I felt was a convincing facsimile of horror, pointing one talon at the air over Alenko's left shoulder. He started, paled, and then turned in a flash of blue as his biotics fired up. I'm not sure at which point our uproarious laughter registered, but if the look he shot as we both doubled over this time was any indication, he didn't appreciate the humor.

 

* * *

 

And so it went, mission after mission. She never left me behind, and I always had her six. If the mission was an easy one, and moreso if it was an impossible one, a sniper battle would ensue, leaving whichever hapless crew member that was accompanying us with little to do but observe our handiwork.

I can't even begin to describe how this affected my views on life, other than to say I found myself again. I had thought I hadn't been stagnating, but once I was behind the rifle once more, with a partner who believed in me? I learned how misled I had been. Even in the military, I had never been part of a team like this one. Everyone was a master in their field, Shepard most of all. I almost felt out of place, my own position unearned. The Commander assuaged that every time she picked me again for the impossible _verna_ we faced.

Kaidan, by contrast, went less and less. Said he didn't have the stomach for it, though personally I think he was jealous. The man was too ignorant to know the difference between the kindred of soldiers, and the flirtations of lovers. Soon enough, Shepard made more clear to him where her physical affections lay, and that appeased him for a while.

Usually, it was Wrex who would get harangued to jump into the fire with us. He even grew to accept our banter good-naturedly, or at least, as good-naturedly as _any_ krogan would. He tended to view us as over-exuberant children, something Shepard took in stride considering Wrex's age and experience.

I could see the changes in Shepard too, as she grew more accustomed to her role as Commander, and friend. I got the impression she didn't have much experience with either one, not that it was something we ever discussed. Both our sniper skills continued to improve as a result of our contests, striving to take each target out before the other, always competing to outdo one another. Then again, the Commander was always at work on something, be it either her weapons or martial skills. She had an obsession with hand-to-hand combat that surprised me, and once I asked her about it, idly reflecting on how similar our interests were.

"It's not like the geth are going to walk up and let you take a swing at them… and even if they did, what good would it do you?" She moved through a kata as I watched her in her makeshift practice area, our debriefing room. Why she asked me there the first day, I wasn't sure, other than to guess she had gotten wind of the turian penchant for sparring. However, as one afternoon had led to others, the time spent in that room had become something like bonding time as we swapped stories while she practiced.

"This isn't for them, Garrus," she stated as she executed a forward strike, palm outward and up to harness the full force of her movement. "You worked at C-Sec. Not all monsters are made of machinery." She looked at me, releasing the tautness in her muscles as she exhaled. Crossing her arms and shifting her weight back onto her left hip, she asked, "You're telling me turians, great warriors of the galaxy that they claim to be, don't train for hand-to-hand combat?" Her voice was both curious and incredulous. I snickered at the story it brought to mind, but _no way_ was I telling her that one. Especially not with her alone, eyes trained on me expectantly. I shrugged off my amusement.

"Yes, but not as a means of actually taking down an opponent. Too many varying factors when a bullet does just as well."

"Never bring a knife to a gunfight, eh?"

I snorted, "Never heard that one before, but I like it. Fits what I'm saying exactly." I stood, moving closer to where she was waiting with a trace of amusement to her gaze.

"For example, when you take someone of your height and build, they are going to have a hard time taking out a larger opponent of similar skill," I eyed her critically, considering my knowledge of her abilities I'd observed. "I would estimate, given the lack of plating and talons, and the skill you've displayed that you would last about two minutes in one of our bouts. Three against a smaller turian female, if I were generous." Hell, if I were generous, I'd admit she _moved_ a lot like a turian female, but that led my thought to places I had no intention of ever taking them. She had never asked why I wouldn't spar against her, and I'd never explained.

Sparring was either a way of blowing off steam, or a way of leading to _another_ activity that blew off steam. Just another form of flirting, if taken the wrong way, in turian society. Sort of a hold over from the days before we became civilized, when show-casing one's strength led to mating rites. I was pretty sure that I could keep it professional, since humans weren't even remotely attractive to me, but still... sparring with your commanding officer is a recipe for trouble on any vessel. It was just that simple.

"That so, Vakarian?" _Well damn_ , I knew I was in trouble when she used my clan name and that tone of voice in the same sentence. I contemplated conceding, just to derail where this was going, but it was only a matter of time before I was dragged onto the mat. Better to do so on my terms, if that were the case.

"You disagree, Shepard?" Okay, so my 'terms' probably shouldn't involve baiting said commanding officer, but I never claimed to have a handle on my sarcasm. And I also never turn down an opportunity to show off.

"How about a wager then: my new scope for your new omni-tool. No armor. First touch that would be considered a lethal blow wins. Thirty minutes, Vakarian. _Don't be late_."

Tactically, unarmored and weaponless left her vulnerable.  While my plating wouldn't stop a bullet or a knife, I was sure a human hand would have no effect; plus, my talons were more than sharp enough to be considered weapons on their own. Before I could point out what she had overlooked, however, and perhaps offer to give her something to compete, she was already out the door.

 _Fine, if she wants to make an idiot out of herself, then so be it,_ I thought.

A half an hour later found me approaching the makeshift sparring room, wearing loose civilian clothing that wouldn't impede my movement. It had been so long since having both the time and the partner to do this kind of thing with, that had I not been so sure of myself, I would have worried about rusty skills. But this was Shepard, I knew her skill set, and I had it covered. Or so I thought.

I entered the room with full intentions of taking it easy on her. Better to let her believe herself dominant and avoid any command awkwardness. Then I saw her, and that plan went out the airlock.

She was already there, stretching herself to loosen the muscles as I'd seen her do so many times since Therum. Only now, she appeared dangerous, almost predatory. Something in her stance, in the narrowing of her eyes, told me this was no mock battle for her. She was deadly serious, and I refocused my stance and my mindset, taking in the outfit she had encased herself with. She was wearing a skintight dark grey bodysuit of some shiny cloth, a material that was going to make it almost impossible to maintain a grip on her. An idle, twisted thought made me glad Alenko wasn't there. One sight of Shepard as nothing but death with curves might have scarred the guy for life.

Once again, I reflected that the aura she carried was very similar to many of the turian women I had both sparred against and fought beside, all great warriors in their own right. This was _not_ going to be the child's play I had thought, and I almost grinned in anticipation of the challenge.

We circled, eyes locked, not even bothering the preface the event. If the choice of clothing had been meant as a distraction, and seeing how she manipulated Kaidan made me inclined to believe it may have, it didn't work. Outside of the continually stated lack of attraction, I had fallen into a battle trance, and was only waiting on the right moment to strike. Too soon would give her an advantage, and too late would have me on the mat. My anticipation heightened as we matched each other step for step. She had no clue what I had in my arsenal, but I was intimately familiar with hers from so many afternoons watching. She was good, but not good enough.

Finally, after what seemed seconds and days spent drowning in blue eyes, she stumbled. Instinctively, I lunged, hurrying so I didn't miss my opening. The material around her waist defied my attempts to grasp it, however, and I fumbled for a moment before wrapping my arms around her midsection. I pulled her towards me, using my greater height and strength to hold her as I repositioned an arm around her neck, immobilizing her without cutting off her air supply.

Her back flush with my chest, she banged against my arm plating uselessly for a moment. But then _something_ about that position seemed to set her off. Her body stiffened, and I'm almost sure I heard her growl as she suddenly seemed to shift into something almost animalistically intense. She wormed out of my grasp before I could fully subdue her, fire in her eyes as she whirled away from me. Panicked at losing my hold, and at the unexpected change, I sprung forward again. She took that forward momentum and used it to roll over my head, repositioning her legs to encircle my waist from behind. Before I could perform one of a thousand moves to dislodge her, I felt a cold point press into the sensitive skin between my fringe and plating, just underneath my right auditory canal. There was pressure, not much, but just enough to let me know she could kill me with much more or it. For one, horrible moment, I almost thought she would give that little extra, that small push. Yet, it didn't scare me. It intrigued me.

Heated and strained, I felt warm breath combine with cold steel. "You lose, Vakarian," she all but purred, mouth inches from my cheek plating. Then, quick as it had begun, she dropped to the floor and released me. Partly chagrined and partly amazed, I turned and watched her quickly resheath the stiletto somewhere in the sleeve of the suit, where it became indistinguishable.

 _What in the hell was_ that? Her movements hadn't been _like_ a turian females, they _had_ been, with little extra tricks added for good measure. Talk about letting pride get the better of you. Make that one more competition she'd kicked my ass at. Looking at her face, I expected a triumphant smile or flirtatious remark, almost needed one to overcome my embarrassment. Every instinct in my body insisted she was _prey_ , that I shouldn't have been beaten so easily.

 _In under three minutes, I'd bet,_ I thought, ironically.

For a moment, she did look a little smug. Justifiably so. Then, slowly, her satisfied smirk turned to a thinly disguised look of horror and disgust. Her shoulders slumped, her body radiating revulsion as her already pale skin went even whiter. The blood rushing from her face coupled with her suddenly shaking body was such a stark contrast to the confident thing I'd just fought that I was taken completely aback.

"Garrus… I'm sorry… I…" Words failed her. She grabbed her things, running from the room, stumbling slightly at the doorframe in her rush to disappear.

 _What, exactly, just happened?_ I thought, staring at the now empty doorway in utter confusion. The silent room seemed to hold no answer for me.


	8. Drowning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning on this chapter for past descriptions of violence/rape.

**Chapter 8 - Drowning (Shepard)** _**  
** _

"What the hell just happened?" I almost cursed to myself. I ripped the sneak suit off in a rage, shoving my hair out of my face in my disgust. "I'll tell you what just happened, you lost control."

_Memories… floating listlessly along their currents… drowning in past events and time…_

Control. Keeping the nightmares at bay in daylight was about cast iron control. Losing it, even momentarily, was a good way to find myself dead, or worse. In the grip of that sociopathic bitch that resided in the back of my head. Hence the sarcasm and the mock battles. They were distractions from the demons that threatened to overtake me with _every waking moment_. It was a distraction from the darkness that truly encompassed my soul, no matter how many _moral_ decisions I made or lives I saved...

_I fall into the sea of emotions, unable to surface until my pound of flesh has been given…_

**A hand covers her mouth, muffling the screams. Not because he cares if they're heard, but because it pains her more to lose even that small release. I watch, wanting to be numb but too horrified to allow it, as he takes her again and again, allowing her no respite or escape. When he is spent, he passes her on to another, laughing as if the futile screams of pain and tears are only adding to his enjoyment of the situation.**

**I hate what's happening to her, but am glad it isn't me... and I hate myself for feeling that way, for not stopping it. For not being _able_ to stop it. I am so small and weak-minded, and things like this just didn't _happen_ under Jackson and Elayne. We were street kids, but to them we were also a family, a team. To Finch? We were whores. Nothing but goods for the gang to distribute.**

**As if hearing me call his name, the man who has just finish raping the woman I almost consider my mother approaches me. I cringe away, fear soaking into my very soul at the idea of taking her place. I hear muted thuds resume from where his other thugs have Jackson shoved down in the corner, more beatings, as if watching what is happening to his beloved isn't torture enough.**

**My eyes are locked on Finch now, unable to make myself look away as my doom approaches. I close my eyes, the smell of blood on him overpowering the underlying scent of nicotine and beer. I feel movement, a light caress down my cheek causing me to start. But I can't cry, I won't. I must be strong for my surrogate parents, mustn't add to their horror if my own innocence is forfeit.**

" **Don't worry sweetie," Finch tells me, "no one's gonna touch you like that. But you remember the lesson." His hand grips my chin forcefully, but I'm still too terrified to open my eyes as he makes me look back at Elayne. "Look at her."**

**The tears begin in spite of my resolve at another cry from Elayne, and I shake my head against his hold, to no avail.**

**"LOOK." I open my eyes, the ire in his voice contrasting so sharply with his kind tone from a moment before, telling me that to anger him further would be a mistake. Perhaps the worst of my life.**

**I stare at the dark-haired woman, trying not to see, as Finch speaks again.** " **I think you will do nicely, My Widow. But first you must learn this: n** **ever trust anyone, or get emotional. It only gives them someone to hurt you with. Alone is better than broken…" His final words are accompanied by a strike, a backhand across the face that sends me into blessed unconsciousness.**

I curl up on my bunk, allowing the memory to fade, wallowing in the guilt and the revulsion.

My head is pounding. _"Go away."_ Is my only thought, and I find myself reduced to an intense need for nothingness, and silence from the cries in my recollections. The noise won't stop, though, and then I realize it's not actually in my head.

"Shepard, damn you, open this door. I'm coming in."


	9. Comrades in Arms

**Chapter 9- Comrades in Arms**

I paced about the cargo hold, jumbled thoughts assaulting me with every step as I contemplated how the sparring match had ended.

_I knew it was a bad idea. Just knew it. When are you going to listen to your own intuition, Garrus._

And damn, I'd admit it. I was hurt. I hadn't realized how precarious Shepard's and my newfound companionship really was, how much I'd come to enjoy her humor. I hadn't had a good, true partner in a long time, Shelaya notwithstanding. Now, somehow, I'd screwed it up and _didn't even know_ what I'd done. It threw me off balance, and I didn't like it.

I fired up my omni-tool, intent on checking the MAKO's systems in an attempt to distract myself, but found my brain unable the focus. The memory of our sparring was much too fresh to allow mindless programming, a fact that I found somewhat disturbing on _so_ many levels. _Riza_ , a part of me had enjoyed our competition, even the loss.

Teandra was a friend, and a human; I would never compromise that friendship. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the combination of our mingled sweat and the strange, sweet perfume of her hair had left me more than a bit breathless from the exotic nature of it. I did NOT have a thing for humans, quite the opposite, in fact. But the close proximity to her on a daily basis had left me curious about what the texture of her skin and hair would be like to the touch. Harmless mental wanderings, easily dismissed, but I shut off the omni-tool in disgust.

_Maybe food might help clear my head._

Working my way towards the galley, I approached the synthesizer in distaste. It produced food, if you used the term quite loosely. But one look at the grey mess it spit into the bowl for me crushed any possible appetite I had pretended to have. As if my own thoughts weren't enough torment, I heard heavy footsteps approaching, revealing Wrex intently heading for his bottle of Rycol.

"What'd you do to Shepard, turian? Try to grab her ass or something?"

I hesitated, "That would be insulting, I take it?" I dumped the uneaten food into the trash chute and placed the dish into the santizer as I spoke.

Wrex snorted. "I've watched a human woman punch the shit out of one of her buddies for trying. Mind you, there was a shit-load of alcohol involved at that particular party…" I half-listened to Wrex's ramblings about a one-night gig as a bouncer for a Citadel council member. His stories were usually worth listening to, but as Shelaya used to say, my heart wasn't in the conversation.

Our close proximity on both missions and in the cargo hold had allowed us to share several conversations. In spite of the ritual animosity between our species, which he occasionally used as a barb when we argued, for the most part we'd come to an accord as warriors. He seemed to view both Shepard and me as two young hotheads, protecting our backs while we alternated sniper shots with an almost affectionate air. I had an immense respect for him, and his shotgun, but my brain couldn't focus on conversation with him at that moment.

Finally, Wrex notice my inattention. "I've got better things to do than talk to a wall. Whatever you did to piss her off, fix it, turian."

 _Believe me, I plan on it. As soon as I figure out what_ it _is._

What was the hell was wrong with her? I wished I understood humans better at that moment, possibly for the first time in my life. If she were a turian woman, it would be simple: pester her into telling me through a combination of sarcasm and questions. A turian woman would either tell me or beat the crap out of me for intruding on her privacy. Either was preferable to this grueling uncertainty. I could always try to psychoanalyze her from a detective stand point, but this was Shepard, not some petty criminal. She deserved better of me. _She_ deserved a direct questioning, and I wasn't sure I was ready to test the bonds of our comraderie quite that severely yet. Better to sit it out and wait until I was sure.

I swore at the approach of a new set of footsteps, revealing Tali. I quickly searched her hands, making sure she didn't have some sort of mischievousness planned. But her stature made her worry evident, as did her voice when she spoke.

"I'm concerned about Shepard, Garrus. She still has not come out of her room, and will not answer when I knock."

"What?" It had been five hours; something was seriously wrong. I left Tali in the galley, confusion radiating from her posture.

"We do not HAVE to talk about it…" she called after me, sounding irritated.

_Mental note, apologize later, Vakarian._

Her door was locked, just as the quarian had stated, when I reached it. Knocking gently, then forcefully, I said, "Shepard, open this door, damn it. I'm coming in." A deafening silence was the only response I received, and that was all I needed. Using my omni-tool, I overrode the code on the door and took in the picture before me.

Teandra looked like she had been tangling with a wild varren. She was sitting on her bed in a loose white, sleeveless shirt and shorts, the sneak suit kicked disdainfully off in the corner. Her hair and eyes were wild, sure indications of her state of mind, as her shiny locks were usually kept with a fierce vanity.

_I remember, she called it a "vestige of her feminity," almost as if she were quoting something._

Her arms hung loosely at her sides. Looking more closely, I realized with growing horror that red that covered them was from gouges down her arms. The injury was obviously self-inflicted, her undecorated nails caked underneath with brown and drying blood. Small sanguine droplets continued to ooze from the cuts as I watched. My anger and confusion dissipated immediately as I came to one realization: this was not something _I_ had done. The pain and vacancy in her eyes were too deep for this to stem from a single event.

I closed the door behind me, taking a cautious step forward. She didn't even move, didn't acknowledge my presence, and I had _no idea_ what to make of her this way. Where was my Commander that gave orders, never allowing questions or doubts? Where was the playful battle buddy who smiled when she said my name, usually making a smart-ass comment at the same time? I'd even take the deadly siren I had sparred with…

I idly wondered if anyone, really, knew how truly broken this woman was. Had anyone cared enough to pursue her before? And there _had_ been a before, the tracery of scars along her arms, some healing, some only half healed, made that glaringly obvious. A stylized tribal marking was inked on the left side of her chest, a symbol or picture in a language I didn't recognize. Another, very faint, scar traced it's way up and across her shoulder, most likely a wound from Akuze based on most human healing rates. I took another hesitant step.

Finally, she looked at me dully. No snap reflexes, no emotion on her face. The lack of it contrasted sharply with my memories, she being a human inclined to showing a large variety of expressions. The absence was almost as worrying as her appearance. A brief, very faint smile touched her lips as she recognized me, but I'm not sure I would have seen it had I not been looking for it so intently. It was gone as she ducked her head, curtaining her face with her hair as if to hide herself from me. She spoke.

"Garrus, I said I was sorry." Her voice was harsh, recalling interrogations that had involved much screaming and crying. Her face was dry though, as if she wouldn't allow herself _that_ indignity on top of the others. "You don't need to be here, or to see me like this. It will pass…" she stopped, taking a breath and releasing it as she whispered, "It always does." Her calm acceptance of the situation confirmed the evidence my eyes had taken in, ever the investigative officer.

"Commander," I started to say, but she flinched at the address, as if she were doubting her right to the title. _Screw this_ , I thought to myself. Quickly, I moved forward and knelt in front of her, trying to peer through the makeshift barrier of hair.

"Teandra, if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. I'll always be here if you need me." Someone had to be there. She was nothing but a ghost of her former self right now, a shell, and it seemed as if no one else cared enough to bother. I might only be a temporary addition to this crew, but I'd be _damned_ if I'd allow someone do endure this level of personal torment alone.

The use of her first name seemed to break through, but not in the way I intended. She turned her head, once again shielding her eyes from my piercing gaze in order to hide her shame. Before I could change my mind, I reached a talon forward, tucking the stray ends of one side behind her ear as I'd seen her habitually do so many times. She started slightly at my touch, but the brief smile I had witnessed was enough to assure me it was her demons, not me, that she flinched from. As I drew my hand back, she looked up and met my eyes for the first time since I'd entered the room. I was immediately struck by the power those blue orbs held from this distance, even as she sat battered before me. There was an inner strength there I never would have expected to see at that moment.

Then, that expression broke as she managed to decipher my expression as one of compassion. Hesitation warred with hope, a single second of indecisiveness, before she flung herself forward into my arms. She buried her face in my unarmored chest, nestling her head beneath my mandibles.

Briefly, there was a moment of awkwardness as I readjusted my position on the floor, literally cradling her small form into my arms as my brain tried to process the situation through my confusion. _I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the normal human response to someone invading your quarters..._ The thought held no small trace of humor in spite of the situation. Again, with her so close I could smell her hair, a scent she had once told me was called ylang-ylang, some earth flower she paid more for than she wanted to admit, lest it make her seem vain. Hesitantly, I reached up and touched the object of my fascination, stroking along the silky length of it when she didn't object. It was like water turned solid, and slid through my talons easily, the red cascading through my fingers in shiny waves. The movement not only didn't appear to upset her, but had quite the opposite effect. Instead, it seemed to comfort her, to release something within her, and she began to shake.

It took me a moment to realize the great warrior I held, the human hero of the galaxy, was crying. The revelation was completely disarming.

The quiet tears slowly escalated into wracking sobs, and I did the only thing I could: I held her, continuing to smooth her hair, since it seemed to calm her somewhat as, well, _whatever_ this was ran its course. After what could have been minutes or hours, she quieted, but refused to let go when I began to pull her away to try to look at her.

Then, slowly, softly, she began to tell me what had brought the whole mess on.

"I was born on earth, Garrus. I think you already knew that. What you probably _didn't_ know was that when I was ten or so, I went from being a somewhat youthful street rat and became... something else." She kept her cheek pressed against my shirt as she spoke, as if scared of what my face might say if she looked. I didn't speak, knowing that I shouldn't until the whole story had worked itself from her.

"He forced me to watch as he beat the man I considered to be my father within an inch of his life, all the while forcing _both_ of us to watch while they raped the closest thing I had to a mother. Jackson and Elayne..." she stopped, hesitating, then continued, "their only transgression was wanting a better life for all of us than to be whores and slaves. The Reds, another gang, they didn't like people getting ideas like that... _Finch_ didn't like that." She all but spat his name when she said it, a fact I didn't miss. _Ah, here we have the heart of the matter, I think._

"He took the other kids, made them into something the gang could use for their pleasure, even the... the boys... but not me. No, he saw something _special_ in me. Wanted a new protege, he said. I endured six years of beatings, torture, and subversion techniques. He tried to take the life out of me, and leave a shell. Some days, it seems, he's succeeded. Days like today, when I become the woman he trained me to be. A killer. Nothing but a mindless killer." The torrent of words came to a close, and I considered them for a moment.

_She fled the sparring ring because she was using skills she learned from a killer? I'm not sure I understand._

"You were using your abilities to survive. That's what sparring is _supposed_ to imitate. _Never_ let anyone make you feel sorry for defending yourself, Teandra."

At the conviction in my words, she finally pulled away, looking up at me with her hands still lain on my chest. Her eyes were narrowed in confusion, as if my words didn't mesh with her own idea, until finally her face cleared as she seemed to realize I was right.

That easy expression lasted about three seconds, which was how long it took her to realize _exactly_ what a silly position she was in. Her blush gave me a rush of relief. I hadn't seen her do so before, but the fact that she had the ability to be embarrassed showed her returning to her normal self.

 _How inconvenient_ , I mused, _to have your emotions displayed so openly. I'm glad turians can't blush, or I'd have been in trouble a long time ago._

"God, Garrus," she reached up, tucking the now almost tame ends of her hair behind both ears, "How the hell did _you_ get stuck in here dealing with my breakdown?" I just smiled enigmatically.

She was dodging. I wasn't going to let her, though I would wait until tomorrow to pry more fully. This wasn't something that could be dealt with overnight. Humans might be somewhat of a mystery, but trauma was something my work had exposed me to relentlessly. Eventually, you have to clean the wound out, or it festers while you sleep.

When I didn't actually answer, she blushed again at our close proximity. I fully expected her to get up, to flee from the situation. Instead, a reluctant sigh reached my ears as she ducked her head again and snuggled closer, allowing my arms to envelope her once more. This brief moment lasted only a few more seconds before she looked up at me with a strained but sincere grin. The words she spoke then gave me hope that everything would be alright.

"You know, I think you may have just earned your omni-tool back."


	10. The Morning After

**Chapter 10- The Morning After**

I grudgingly awoke to the ping of my omni-tool, experiencing a blessed moment of peace before the events of the prior evening came crashing down upon me with the force of an Armature blast.

I had left Shepard, exhausted but at peace, asleep on her bunk. My own slumber had not come so easily, the burden of her revelations a new weight to be considered against the force of our companionship. It was a very intimate thing she had shared, and my worry was that our tentative friendship might not survive the telling.

Don't misunderstand me, I felt a kindred with Teandra that I was loathe to examine too closely, lest it tarnish under the light of harsh reality. She was a human, a Spectre, and my Commander. All were dangerous for me to be too close to, officially friendly interactions between species or no.

Contemplating her childhood did nothing to ease my misgivings. She had endured techniques that would have turned a lesser woman into a mindless slave at that _ben'jee's_ bidding. Some of the things she had described to me? They were trademarks of batarian slavers used to break new girls before they were shipped off to shit-hole brothels in the far reaches of the Terminus systems, usually Asari that were less than willing to use their seduction skills for their owner.

Finch, as she'd named him, had created a girl who was mentally, physically, and emotionally scarred. The same girl who was now tasked with saving all our lives, and the galaxy itself, from certain annihilation. The fire of his torment had meant to burn the life from her, but instead had tempered her to an edge, strong but not without flaws. Flaws that could be dangerous if steel met steel by the end of our mission.

As to trust… It was not something she gave away lightly; that had become obvious. Many of her inexplicable actions became clear as I saw them under the new circumstances: her apparent automatic acceptance of the _Normandy_ crew, for example. It had seemed as if she had taken everyone on their word, admitting them into the fold without thought or hesitation. The truth of the matter? She didn't trust the humans _or_ the aliens, and no one was nearly as close to her as they thought. But she also appeared to be fighting against her partially failed indoctrination, like she didn't want to allow it to force everyone away, either. The Episode, as I was beginning to think of it, had happened because I had gotten through her self-constructed barriers somehow. Perhaps our banter made her consider me safe? Someone she could depend on?

Now _that_ was a heady feeling. The idea that _t_ _he_ slated savior of the galaxy trusted me, and no one else.

I groaned, rolling off my cot, and briefly considered civilian clothes before donning my armor. If I knew Shepard at all, gunfire and bloodshed would be her trademark way to escape after her evening. I could only hope I would need the armor to fight off her enemies, and not to deflect her bullet when she had to admit the part I had played in it.

 

* * *

#####

* * *

 

Shame permeated every ounce of my being, running through my veins thick as poison and twice as deadly.

_How could I have done it?_

I examined my reflection, glancing downward to take in the lines that would become more scars in a collection of many. Tears had left faintly dried lines of salt down my face, and I scrubbed them away in disgust. All the time keeping everyone at arms length, fighting to keep them away. I finally get comfortable enough the let someone in, for the first time in goddess knows how long, **and I had royally fucked it up**.

No excuses, no explanations. 

I had known Vakarian less than three weeks, and had told him one of my most intimate secrets; shared with him an event that would have been better left buried. I had NEVER shared it with anyone: not Anderson when he recruited me, not the countless counselors after Akuze (who soon grew used to the phrase "I _don't_ want to talk about it"), NO ONE. Why in the hell I had decided that _Garrus,_ of all people, needed to hear the story was something I couldn't even answer for myself.

 _He probably didn't appreciate the show of weakness, Teandra Shepard_ , I thought bitterly, _Turians don't exactly strike me as the emotional breakdown type._

Well, it wasn't going to happen again, that was for _damn_ sure. I wasn't a whiny little bitch, I was a _goddamn_ N7 _._

_**I do not fucking cry!** _

_Bad enough if it had just been a few tears front of the crew.  But bawling my eyes out in the arms of a random teammate was SO much worse._

I berated myself as I brushed my teeth; continued as I combed my fingers through my hair, reddening briefly at the talons the motion was imitating; even cursed myself all the way over to the galley, right up until the time I saw Garrus.

He was picking distastefully at the latest atrocity the synthesizer had vomited, face contorted in disgust. Then, he looked up at my approaching footstep, his mandibles twitching in the turian equivalent of a smile. The expression was exactly the same as the one I received each morning, with no touch of any sort of pity or anger. The dread slowly leaked away, and an uncharacteristic set of thoughts invaded my brain instead.

_Everything is just as it was. It's going to be okay._

* * *

#####

* * *

"Sleeping in, Shepard? No Cerberus ops to disrupt or abandoned freighters to explore?" I kept my tone light, encouraged by the unabashed smile that lit her face when our eyes met, an attempt at proving my respect for her hadn't changed. She didn't seem like the kind of woman who gave into her emotions easily, and I would have almost _bet_ she was beating herself up over it even as we spoke.

"Nope… nothing on the agenda today… planning on relaxing and being bored." My incredulity must have shown, because she chuckled and said, "Okay, fine, I have no clue what those words mean." She went towards the cabinets, grabbing some sort of pastry looking thing and sitting across from me, picking at it fitfully.

I snorted and pushed the latest goop (green this time) away from me, trying and failing not to sigh. Glancing at her again, I noticed a contemplative look on her face.

"On second thought, maybe a trip to the Citadel is in order. I don't care if the council has to requisition the damn thing themselves, there's got to be a better option for you and Tali."

"It's fine, Shepard. No need for a special trip." Translation: _Don't baby me Shepard_.

She considered my tone, her eyes flicking to take in the set of my shoulder plates, then responded, "No, if my crew isn't happy, I'm not happy. A bullet in the back makes that difficult."

"I don't think Tali would actually _shoot_ you, Commander. Though I did hear her threatening to commit suicide via levo-amino food…" My statement was interrupted by a hand set over mine, causing me to reflect idly on how small it was compared to my own. They didn't appear that way when lain over the trigger of her Harpoon.

"Garrus… well… thank you." It was obvious the words pained her, admittance of her own weakness that they were. Kaidan shot me a look from across the room where he was tinkering with an equipment panel, noticing her hand. But I wasn't about to hurt her feelings to assuage his suspicious mind. By the damn spirits, we were just friends. I didn't have to prove it.

"Anyone would have done the same," was my dismissive reply, playing the whole event off with that one statement.

"No, they wouldn't," she said, so softly I almost missed it, as she glanced away. Following her gaze, I looked at Kaidan.

 _Isn't he supposed to be the other half of their mated pair, and yet he holds himself back from her._ He hadn't bothered to even worry about her the prior evening, in spite of her mood being crew scuttlebutt. The question was, _Why?_ Did her affection mean so little to him? I could honestly say, after the experiences of the prior night, that the woman in front of me needed someone who could deal with the whole person she was, trauma and all. Kaidan was going to have to make more of an effort if he planned on keeping her.

Shepard retrieved her hand, wrapping a lighthearted disposition around herself as if it were a second set of armor. She hesitated, then steeled herself and asked almost jauntily, "Hey Vakarian, I'll understand if you say no, but I'd like to continue our sparring matches if you're up for it. I could use the practice against a larger opponent."

Expressions of my doubts of the idea began to tumble out, but she continued, "Unless you're afraid of the human taking you down again, of course."

I blinked, taken aback by the challenge. "Now, how _can_ I say no when you put it that way? My ego would never speak to me again."

"That'll be the day, Garrus."

"Be careful, little Spectre," I almost purred, leaning forward, "You surprised me last time. I won't make the same mistake twice." Yes, there was definitely a very mischievous glint to her eyes now, possibly in response to the challenge in my voice. Or the address. _Little Spectre? Really Garrus?_ She didn't seem to mind the informality, however, and the name _did_ fit. "Besides, you do realize you cheated? You brought a weapon."

"I am always armed, Garrus." She laughed as stood, surreptitiously nodding towards Kaidan much as she had on Therum. Once she was sure he was watching, she stretched her arms over her head, focusing his attention on certain features he obviously admired. She moved towards the staircase, hips swaying in a motion that had him staring after her like an idiot. Looking over her shoulder long enough to catch my eye, she winked and went on, "Even when I'm not carrying a weapon."

I shook my head, silently laughing at poor Alenko, and thought, "She's back, alright."


	11. Citadel

**Chapter 11- Citadel**

"So let me get this straight… quarian females can have a _nerve stimulation program_ installed in order to avoid giving into sexual temptation?" Shepard was somewhere between shock and curiosity as she spoke to Tali.

Wondering exactly HOW I ended up on an elevator listening to this conversation, I was (again) sure as hell glad blushing was not something turians were capable of. "I guess it's better than having to worry about compromising your immune system every time. Human intercourse isn't so complicated, you see…"

I tuned the girls out by sheer force of will. Determined to avoid eye contact with Shepard _or_ Tali, it occurred to me I was going to have to break something with Wrex to keep my ego intact after this experience. 

_Will this elevator hurry the hell up, dammit?_

"But even back on the Flotilla where precautions do not have to be explained ahead of time…" Tali began again, but thankfully we reached our destination. I practically ran from the elevator, only pausing once I had regained my composure. Then, and only then, I risked a glance back at the two women. Tali, as if only just realizing I had been there for the entire conversation, was standing in a posture that so deeply radiated embarrassment I almost felt sorry for her. Shepard, on the other hand, was too busy laughing at my discomfort to be contrite.

"Really, Vakarian? It's just harmless girl talk… In the name of scientific discovery of course…"

"This conversation is over, Shepard… never speak of this again." Shaking my head, I commented, "Why can't I hang out with normal, hit-you-as-soon-as-look-at-you, turian women? Nooo, I have to hang out with two nymphomaniac alien girls…" The look on Shepard's face silenced me, a cross between annoyance and deviousness. Feeling slightly better, I went on, "Which shop are we going to, anyway? It'll sure going to be nice to have a decent meal for a change…" Shepard smirked, but allowed me to change the subject.

As we made our way through the Citadel, it occurred to me how beautiful it actually could be when you weren't constantly checking over your shoulder. Expansive windows revealed a view of the Citadel Arms as we made our way up the stairs from the C-Sec garage. The Volus's stand we were making for was a location that was continually filled by new salesmen, as the cranky turian next to it tended to chase away any customers not of his own race. Even now he could be heard arguing with a human over his return policy, which seemed to be that if you weren't turian, he didn't offer one.

_Glad it's not my job to deal with that anymore…_

As Shepard and Tali negotiated for the new synthesizer, making sure it would accommodate both Tali's and my preferences as well as integrate into the Normandy's systems, I busied myself watching the people around us. The mingled population of the Citadel made for a colorful display of race and clothing that assaulted the eyes with their variation. My nerves were suddenly on edge, though, and try as I might I couldn't pinpoint why.

Then the two turians coming up the staircase came into full view, and my stomach turned to ice. My fists clenched in an automatic gesture of self-containment, shoulder muscles bunching in a fight-or-flight response triggered by an adrenaline rush. My eyepiece, registering the adrenal response, honed in on my focus and read, _Distance 10m, weapons unknown…_ I ignored the scrolling information, only halfheartedly wishing I could put it to use.

_This can't be happening…_

Executor Pallin was coming up the staircase, and at his side was my father. As of yet they hadn't seen me, but I knew it was only a matter of moments before his trained eyes took notice. To my surprise, they seemed to be talking about me.

"Last I heard, Castis, the Spectre seemed to be keeping him in check. She runs a tight ship and tends be inclined towards talking before shooting," Pallin was informing my father.

"I don't care, she's still a Spectre. The last thing he needs is someone telling him the rules are negotiable. He's been even more headstrong since his mother left… I'm sure he still blames me." I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable reaction that would come when my presence was noticed.

 _By the spirits, if Shepard hears him, this could be... bad._ It had only been a day since The Episode, but it had become very apparent over that small span of time that we had bonded in a way that went well beyond words. She had grown even more protective of our friendship than she had ever been before. If a situation like this were to happen to any of the rest of the crew, she'd hurt whoever was responsible. In my case?

Well, I wasn't sure having the first human Spectre kill the youngest Executor in history would go over well for the whole intergalactic relations concept. Just a guess.

In spite of the potential implications, the thought of Teandra coming to my defense was comforting in some small way. It gave me a touch of confidence, having someone consider me to be anything more than a failure for once. Something my father had _never_ done. The contrast, that this human believed in me more than my own family, was strange.

As Castis Vakarian moved towards the final step, luck was with us, because as the crowd pressed closer our group was lost among it. The two turians passed, their conversation still managing to carry over the din.

"That's the job," Pallin responded, "If we don't take out the criminals, they aren't so obliging. Family has to come second to that, just to ensure their safety. I wish I could have convinced him to stay for you, Castis, but we both knew something like this would happen eventually."

 _Convinced me to stay? You kept assigning me investigations that you_ knew _were unsolvable to make me look bad because I bitched about the Saleon case. What a ration of_ verna.

"Well, I should have laid down the law a little sooner, Venari. He's going to disgrace my name one of these days with that hot head of his…" The voices moved away, but I couldn't contain my frustration even in their absence. I rubbed my face angrily, an attempt to calm my urge to give my father a piece of my mind right then and there, and _screw_ the crowd. It was only then that it came to my attention that I wasn't the only one watching the retreating figures. Cerulean eyes were focused on the silver-skinned pair, and Teandra's features were contorted in a look of absolute hatred. Shaking her head in disbelief, she calmed her expression to a simple frown, eyes narrowed as she turned away. She caught me watching her then, and I would have given a million credits to read her thoughts at that single moment, because I would almost bet that some of those dormant skills she abhorred were trying to surface. She sighed, allowing a shadow of her former smile to return as she laid a pale hand on my arm.

"Let's get the hell out of here, Garrus. Unlike them, we've got important things to do. Things like defeating Saren and saving the galaxy." I was pretty sure her words were supposed to be comforting, but nothing could blanket the disappointment in my father's voice as he'd spoken.

Still, I allowed myself to be placated, if only for the moment. I forced my fury down and nodded assent. As we made our way back to the _Normandy_ , however, doubts dogged my steps unrelentingly, and I knew peace would not come easily that night.

* * *

The galley of the _Normandy_ was empty, and after several hours of installation and several curses in languages ranging from standard to quarian, I was _still_ working on putting in the synthesizer. There had been several offers of help, including Alenko (much to my surprise), but I sent them all away since the work served to clear my head. Unanswered questions ran through my mind, the most prominent of which being why Dad had chosen today to make one of his trademark Citadel visits. His retirement to Palaven had always put him further from the action than he liked, and he made regular returns to offer friendly advice to new C-Sec recruits about their career paths.

Turning an atom-wrench with more force than I should have, it bent, leaving me glaring at it in a display of child-like petulance. I stared at the tool in disbelief, cursing.

"Ferazah!" my brain supplied, which translated roughly to "Son of an ugly Varren" in batarian. I slammed it down from my prone position, snatching another from beside it and hoping it would be compatible. It was, which allowed it to stay in one piece while I resumed my work, remembering my father's advice to his only son upon joining C-Sec.

" _Don't screw this up, Garrus. It took a lot of string pulling for me to get you here. Make sure it was worth the effort…" I am twenty-five, freshly approved for a transfer into C-Sec to complete my turian service requirements. Duty isn't why I'm here, though.  I'm here because C-Sec only takes the best and brightest, and I know my father has molded me into that if nothing else._

" _I won't Dad. I'm good. You_ know _I am," I have already shown promise at following in my dad's footsteps, being made a detective instead of a beat cop proves that. No amount of 'string-pulling' would have gotten me into Citadel Security if I wasn't, though the indication that I wouldn't have gotten in without his help irritates me._

" _You're out of your league, son. These aren't the petty crimes you helped the Military Police with. These people aren't turians, and don't have our sense of honor. They're ruthless batarian slavers, beguiling asari that will attempt to sway you during an interrogation, humans who will lie to your face right before they stab you in the back." He shakes his head, turning away from me, "Your arrogance is going to cost you one of these days, son..." My youth coupled with that same arrogance means I'm not really listening, instead saying "I understand" simply to stop his lecture. Since he's never trusted me, never believed in me, I will just have to prove him wrong.  No matter what it takes._

The last bolt went into place, finally synching the machine with the _Normandy's_ systems. I stood, working the muscles of my aching shoulders before pressing the button to warm the synthesizer up. Grabbing a plate from the nearby cabinets, I approached the machine hesitantly, wondering if the green contraption would deliver anything edible. I pressed a sequence of buttons at random, causing it to spit some sort of blue looking chunks onto the vessel. Tentatively I picked one up, placing it between my teeth hesitantly. The flavor of _kilika_ fruit burst within my mouth, and I allowed myself a brief and contented sigh. The damn thing must have been trying to placate me, because they were my favorite treat back on Palaven, and a much needed reminder of home after the last few days.

"I see that volus wasn't exaggerating on the quality," came Shepard's nonchalant voice from the wall by the elevator. She had one shoulder leaned against it, arms crossed and a smile on her face. "Glad to know it was worth the exorbitant price." She looked content, happy even, her posture relaxed.

"Exactly how long have you been standing there watching me make a _ben'jee_ out of myself, Shepard?" I asked while placing the plate on a nearby countertop, beginning to gather the various and sundry tools strewn about my workspace.

"Oh, long enough. I saw it as a learning experience in alien languages…" I groaned, trying to recall exactly _how many_ expletives in how many tongues I had used. As if in answer to my unspoken question, she piped up cheerfully, "You managed to teach me at least twenty-five new words I hadn't known before, though I couldn't understand the one phrase that went on for about five minutes as you tried to synch the information exchange systems…"

Putting the last of the tools in a bag to return to the MAKO's repair compartment, I wiped my hands on my splattered civies and retrieved my plate, taking a seat at the galley table. Shepard wandered over to the galley area, grabbing a spoon and some kind of plastic container from the cooling area. Seeing my questioning look, she stated, "Pudding. And don't ask how much finagling it took to get it on board… "

"You never cease to amaze me, Shepard. We're on a mission to save the galaxy, yet you still have time to requisition orders for ylang-ylang shampoo and, what did you call it, pudding?" I was finally starting to relax, her easy presence one that always seemed to calm me. The fruit didn't hurt either, bringing back memories of searching out bushes of it with Mishta and Sol.

"Hey, a girl's gotta draw the line somewhere. If you forget why you're doing things in the first place, it's all too easy to lose sight of who you really are," she stared at the item in her hands, as if considering her philosophy more fully, before continuing. "So there you are, the great Commander Shepard decoded: I love floral scents and butterscotch pudding…" she trailed off, keeping the spoon in her mouth for a moment as she contemplated the next thing she wanted about to say.

"Garrus, about today…"

I cut her off before she could say anything more, "I don't want to talk about it." My voice was a little more harsh than I had intended, but I was pretty sure she would know my ire wasn't at her.

Even so, I expected her to push it, to pester me until I gave in. But she surprised me with her intuition in regards to my mood.

"All I was going to say is that I'm here if you decide you want to… that's it." She grabbed her snack and stood up, glancing at her omni-tool. "2100, Vakarian. Get some sleep, unless you want me to drag Ash out of bed in the morning to come with Liara and I?" I shook my head in dissent, still savoring a chunk of fruit.

"Goodnight then, Garrus."

Swallowing, I said, "Goodnight, little Spectre."

The emptiness settled as she left, leaving me to my own jumbled and tangled thoughts.


	12. New Acquaintances

**Chapter 12- New Acquaintances**

"Turians don't like the cold. Did I ever mention that?" I said peevishly, tweaking the controls on my armor to fully test the heating systems.

"Well, you don't _have_ to come with us, you know. Wrex and Ash are always ready for action, and Tali has been complaining about being cooped up on the ship. I could always let Kaidan take another shot at proving his manhood…"

Damn it, the woman knew my triggers.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. But if I die of frostbite I'm coming back to haunt you, Shepard." Our back-and-forth was interrupted by a voice over the intercom.

"Commander, we're approaching Noveria. ETA fifteen minutes," Joker informed her.

"We'll be right up," she responded. "Let's _go_ , Vakarian. And bring your good assault rifle for this one. I'm not anticipating trouble, but with our luck lately, who knows?" Her armor rang metallically as she moved towards the elevator, looking over her shoulder as if waiting for me get a move on. I snatched up my recently acquired Kovalyov VII, checking that my Volkov was still secured to my armor, and then followed.

We stopped off at the med bay to pick up Liara. She was bundled in several layers of protective clothing, and I seized gleefully on the fact that I wasn't the only one dreading the cold. We moved up to the cockpit, fanning out behind Joker's seat as we approached the planet. The entire surface was an expanse of white, defying the eyes attempt to distinguish individual detail. I adjusted my visor fretfully, uncomfortable with the shortcomings of both the piece of equipment and the mission.

Taking Liara was a mistake. I had overcome my initial distrust of the asari, but that still didn't change the fact that the lightly armored biotic didn't mesh with Shepard's and my fighting tactics. She not only probably wouldn't be of very much assistance, but would also be someone else we would need to protect. The soft-spoken asari just wasn't a trained killer.

Shepard's Intel had led her to believe Benezia was on Noveria, however, and the Commander felt compelled to let Liara take a shot at speaking to her mother. With my recent experiences with my father still in my head, who the hell was I to argue? My father's disapproval still burned in a way I couldn't describe, though Shepard's confidence in my skills was beginning to temper that. And besides, if Teandra's uncanny sixth sense hadn't forced her to drop the asari out the nearest airlock, then Liara deserved at least a small measure of my own trust.

"Approach control this is the SSV _Normandy_. Requesting a vector and a berth," Joker said, interrupting my thoughts. It was only my second or third time actually seeing the human in person, since he rarely left the cockpit, even in his downtime. He had a rugged appearance about him that matched perfectly with the ever sarcastic running commentary he was continually subjecting us to. A response came back over the radio, a gruff male voice that carried more than a little arrogance and annoyance, " _Normandy_ , your arrival was not scheduled. Our defense grid is armed and tracking you. State your business."

Joker rolled his eyes at the tone, and then responded with only a _small_ amount of superiority, "Citadel business. We've got a Council Spectre aboard." There was a moment of hesitation.

"Landing access granted, _Normandy_. Be advised, we will be confirming identification on arrival. If confirmation cannot be established, your vessel will be impounded." The voice had become wary and guarded. Glancing at Shepard, the gleam in her eyes said clear as day that she _dared_ them to try. I know I wouldn't ever want to be on the other end of her sniper scope. We had turned to leave when Joker commented sarcastically, "What a fun bunch. I think I'll take my next leave here…" Shepard patted his shoulder, shrugging off the sarcasm good-naturedly. She might not actually play favorites, but I was beginning to notice the Commander had a knack for knowing exactly how to handle each of her crew to get optimum performance from them, as if they were another weapon for her to maintain. Liara, Ash, and Tali got her listening ear, and her treatment as an equal. This seemed particularly important to them, and the four women were often seen eating together and tentatively comparing their different cultures. Wrex had gained her admiration for him as a warrior who had seen so much of the galaxy, and had shot at most of it at some point or another. Kaidan got… well, I'm not sure how to describe what their relationship entailed. Lots of flirting and physical contact, of course, but Teandra didn't seem to respect him. Maybe some men would be content with that role.

I chuckled, thinking that while I didn't think she used similar tactics to manipulate me, she was good enough at it I'm not sure I would ever know. But my police work had exposed me to many such people, and I was somewhat confident in my skills in that area. The fact that maybe she didn't feel the need meant the galaxy to me. Then again, maybe the lack of control was a manipulation in itself…

We exited the ship, Kaidan staring after us with his brows pinched in worry. _Thanks for the vote of confidence, Alenko_ , I thought disdainfully. I hadn't let anything happen to her yet, had I?

The cold assaulted me as relentlessly as Kaidan's eyes had, but I couldn't help but be amazed at the beauty of so much white, reflecting the muted sunlight trickling through the storm clouds. "I've never seen so much ice and snow," I commented in awe, drawing a contemplative look from Shepard.

Moving forward, we were met by a collection of turians and humans, using an assortment of both light and heavy armor and weapons. The woman at the forefront carried herself with an air that wasn't overly aggressive, but didn't leave room for negotiation. A lot like Shepard, come to think of it. She spoke in a forceful tone, her accent one I had never heard before, "That's close enough."

Shepard's reply came both without hesitation or her trademark humor, "We're not here to cause problems." Her posture held a worried edge, I assume since this was the first time her Spectre status hadn't muscled through all the beaurocratic _boskaverna_ the galaxy contained.

 _Try C-Sec sometime_. The thought felt more than a little bitter as I refocused my attention to the people in front of me.

The woman readjusted her rifle almost absentmindedly before replying in clipped tones "This is an unscheduled arrival. I need your credentials."   
  
I watched Shepard for a reaction, knowing she wouldn't like the woman's rudeness. Edging her hand slightly towards her pistol in a nervous tic she tended towards when pressured, she said, "You first…"

The response came from a short, blonde woman to the right of the first, and she carried both herself and her shotgun with an air of rash independence I didn't like one bit, "We're the law here, show some respect." She hefted said shotgun as if to reiterate her point. Too bad she didn't know it would _probably_ just piss Shepard off. The first woman silenced her with a look, turning back to Shepard almost apologetically.

"I'm Captain Maeko Matsuo. Elanus Risk control services. And this is my second-in-command Kiara Stirling."

"I'm a Spectre. My name is Shepard." The short reply was intended to hit home the importance of her position, I was sure.

"Load of horsecrap, Ma'am," was Stirling's disbelieving reply. Moving my talons a little closer to the assault rifle Shepard had so thoughtfully reminded me to bring, as if I _ever_ forgot my weapons, I tensed for a firefight. The first shot at Stirling was going to be mine.

Trying to keep the peace between the two women, Matsuo went on in a placating voice, "We will need to confirm that. Also, I must advise you that firearms are not permitted on Noveria. Sergeant Stirling, secure their weapons."

The motions were almost instantaneous. Blue hazed my sights as Liara's biotics came to bear at the same time as my Kovalyov, but neither of us was faster than Shepard, pistol trained on Stirling. Their own weapons were aimed at us a moment later. I took great joy in adding to the conversation:

"Citadel authority supercedes yours." Finally, a battle that proved my point about the rules needing to be overlooked. This was the kind of situation I meant, when the people who were supposed to be on your side got in the way. The silence went on for an eternity before Shepard, words belying her stance, ordered, "Let's not start a fight."

_What?_

I managed to contain my disbelief as I said, "If you think this is best, Commander." She stiffened, but didn't comment.

Our standoff was interrupted by a voice over the intercom.

"Captain Matsuo, _Stand down_. We confirmed their identity. Spectres are authorized to carry weapons here, Captain."

Without hesitation, an indication of good training, Matsuo holstered her rifle and said, "You may proceed, Spectre. I hope the rest of your visit will be less confrontational. Parasini San will meet you upstairs." As we moved past the turrets and turians, Stirling called, "Behave yourselves." The tone was mock jovial, and the hatred in her eyes gave me the feeling we hadn't seen the last of her.

Once we got past the front gate, Noveria became a decorative collection of fountains and standing pools, as if in defiance of the icy vastness that surrounded the complex. A friendly but brusque conversation with Gianna Parasini, assistant to Administrator Anoleis and our friend from the intercom, served to set us on the right path. Apparently Shepard's Intel had been good, since Parasini confirmed that Benezia had not only passed through, but was still on the planet. There was a research facility on Peak 15, and the Matriarch had come through the port headed there, various crates and asari personnel in tow. She refused to give us more information, but stated that we would need a pass from Administrator Anoleis to get into the garage. She gave us directions to his office, leaving us to find our own way.

We entered an elevator heading towards the main floor, and the doors had no sooner closed upon our little group than Shepard rounded on me.

"Don't you _ever_ question my battlefield decisions again, Vakarian." Each spoken word was punctuated by an armored finger jabbed into my chestpiece. Her eyes were on fire, her body radiating anger as surely as my suit was radiating heat. "Do I make myself perfectly clear? If I say it, you do it, and keep your opinions to yourself." This was not my sniper buddy, this was Commander Shepard: deadly, dangerous, and feared enough by the galaxy as a whole to be named the first human Spectre. My normally playful response died on my lips, her tone warning me that at the moment such remarks would be suicidal. I gave the only response she required, nodding my assent wordlessly and feeling more than a bit like a scolded child.

I didn't feel the ferocity of her response was earned, until rethinking my actions. She was right. It was one thing to correct her tactics on the sparring mat, another to do it in front of potential enemies. And Liara's attentive eyes told me the rest of the crew would soon know that the "Commander's favorite" had gotten a well deserved dressing down.

At my nod, the anger drained out of her, and she resumed her watchful demeanor. _I just got berated by a human woman almost a head shorter than me, and accepted it without a qualm._ My own adrenaline began to taper off, allowing me to reflect more fully on that idea. _Guess I have more respect for her than I initially thought_.

* * *

Securing the garage pass turned out to be an ordeal in and of itself. Anoleis was less than helpful, doing nothing other than using our presence as an excuse to verbally bash Shepard and warn her off disrupting operations at any of the companies on his station. Parasini had a few more words of advice, quietly telling us to try Lorik Qui'in at the hotel bar for his pass. She wouldn't say more.

A visit to the turian in question left us with a mission to retrieve some data from his computer in Synthetic Insights and a quietly flustered asari companion. Liara had obviously found the turian attractive, but had kept her opinions to herself. The disruption of her normally calm demeanor was quite amusing, though. As we headed towards the elevator for Synthetic Insights, however, Shepard looked slyly at me. Taking note of the challenge her eyes held, I said, "Battle?"

She nodded.

"Counting or target?" We tended towards two types of sniper battles. In one, we would alternate calling out a specific target and would race to fire the shot first. The other was a simple form of keeping a tally on individual shots that, while an inferior challenge, we leaned towards when unsure of our third party member. The elevator pinged, and she said, "Counting…" gleefully as she rushed forward to cover, not giving the enemy a chance to prepare for our onslaught.

Our motions fell into the rhythmic noise of rifles being fired and bodies hitting the floor, wave after wave moving on our defensive position. I lined up on a mercenary coming down the stairs, cursing in time to Shepard's laughter as she dropped him first. The last fell after several minutes, and I turned to her with a smirk, "Fifteen…" I said, scanning my visor's readout, "You?"

She grinned, "This isn't over yet, Vakarian. And a girl never kisses and tells." She moved forward, methodically checking the lower floors for Qui'in's information. It yielded several packs of medi-gel, but no console.

"Need to stash a few of these, Liara?  Sure are making Vakarian and I do all the work."  The words were spoken in a tone that made it unmistakable they were meant to tease, but Liara looked unsure until Shepard shook her head, smiling apologetically as she patted the asari on the back reassuringly.

The upper floor gave us what we were searching for, however. Shepard only took a moment to extract the information, tucking the disk away into a compartment of her armor. Exiting the room and heading towards the staircase, Shepard put her arms out to stop us from moving forward. Stirling was standing at the landing, flanked by numerous soldiers with a heated look on her face. Shepard, reading her murderous intentions in a half second glance, shouted, "Fire!" and dove for cover, taking her first target as she went. I took a moment to make sure Liara had gotten herself behind a barricade before putting my own rifle to work. Shots bounced around our cover, but the owners of the automatic rifles they came from lacked the skill to take us down at that range. Finally, only Stirling was left, cowering behind a concrete planter.

"26," I said, daring Teandra to beat it. "26," she said over the dying gunfire, grin evident in her tone. Volkov and Harpoon trained on Stirling, and Shepard's intake of breath matched my own. Both rifles cracked in unison…

And the target wasn't there. In a flash of blue Stirling was lifted and forcefully thrown against the nearby wall, slumping to the floor with her head at an odd angle. Glancing at Shepard and hoping my own expression didn't mirror her unconcealed shock, we both turned to Liara.

"Does this mean I win?" she asked in a soft tone, defiant smile on her face.

* * *

An hour later found us leaving Lorik Qui'in, no garage pass but having secured his cooperation in prosecuting Anoleis for crimes against Noveria's corporations. Parasini had promised a pass in exchange for talking to the temperamental turian, and Shepard obliged since it cost her little to expend the extra effort.

"His voice is quite… resonant, isn't it Shepard?" Liara asked the Commander, her _own_ voice an awed innocent sound that had caught the attention of quite a few of the males populating the _Normandy_. Before Shepard could even open her mouth to respond, I broke in.

"NO. I am _not_ going to be subjected to any more 'harmless girl talk in the name of science…'"

Liara looked confused, but Shepard laughed and said, "Don't worry, Garrus. I'm no more attracted to turians than you are to humans." I noticed a tone of mild amusement in her statement, but I'll be damned if I knew why.

We returned to Parasini, letting her know we had secured Qui'in's cooperation to testify. She told us to meet her in her office so she could give us the pass, and our arrival at this destination was timely, since Parasini was dragging Anoleis out in handcuffs.

"Spectre, just in time. Arrest this bitch." The Commander didn't respond, and Parasini shoved him forcefully towards the door, saying, "You have the right to remain silent. I wish to _God_ you'd use it…"

As they moved out the door, Parasini tossing the garage pass at us as she went, Teandra commented to me, "What is it with you cops and the one-liners, anyway?"

"Didn't you know?" I retorted with mock disbelief, taking great pleasure in the laugh that followed, "It's a prerequisite to the Badass Normal's Training course."


	13. Family Ties

**Chapter 13- Family Ties**

"I hate bugs…" Shepard muttered, checking the heatsink of her pistol before putting it to use against a larvae scurrying our way. "And trams, elevators, VI's, biological tampering, and corrupt corporations..."

"Did you forget the cold, psycho machinery, and crazy asari?" I punctuated the statement with the thud of a falling rachni.

She switched to her rifle, retorting, "How about smart-ass turians? I forgot _that_."

I laughed, unperturbed by her annoyance. We were doing all right, considering the massive odds we were facing. Shepard had taken the turret on the drive up to Peak 15, leaving me to navigate the snow and ice while dodging the armatures. Practically unscathed, we'd arrived to the welcome of wave after wave of giant insects, leaving us hard-pressed to stay on our feet. Liara wasn't the hindrance I had feared she would be, but she wasn't the same as having Wrex along. And we needed him for this one. Unending rooms of rachni kept us on high alert and low on medi-gel. We were raiding every container we came across, but it still wasn't enough. Our supplies were at the breaking point until Shepard had talked some doctor out of his. Now we were merely desperate.

We made it through the maintenance corridors worse for the wear, but still moving. We reached a moment of respite at a last room, a container discarded in one corner. Shepard ambled forward, weariness evident, as she kneeled to examine it.

"Damn, we don't need _any_ of this crap." I looked over her shoulder at a jumbled assortment of omni-tools. I helped her to her feet before divvying them out, commenting, "Might come in handy, but damn we could have used more medi-gel."

I handed some of the loot the Liara, who had a faraway look. She said, "We're close. I can feel it." Shepard was busy checking over her equipment, "Shit."

I looked where her gaze had fallen, commenting, "You're going to need new armor after this, Shepard. Your shoulder plate is shot all the hell."

"Just rig it somehow, Garrus. I'm ready to get this over with and get the hell off this planet." I fiddled with the plate for a minute, securing it as best I could. "At least it's not your shooting arm. Your movements going to be limited."

"I'll deal. Just make sure you've got my six."

"Always, Shepard."

She rotated her shoulder as my talons moved away, muttering, "I'm sooo taking a spa day after this. Hot springs and massages, that's the ticket… Rifles ready, boys and girls. Time to move."

* * *

The battle that followed proved just how in synch Shepard and I had become. There was no laughter or jokes, even if we could have summoned them after Benezia's scathing words to her daughter. She had been so, well, _cold_ … Liara just seemed hurt, but the Commander was _pissed_. No one messed with her friends. We holed up right inside the door, as it seemed to offer the best cover.

"T'Soni, take right. I'll take left. Vakarian, you cover us as the situation progresses. Use your best judgment. We're not gonna get a second chance on this one."

"Understood, Commander." I was still shaken up by the stasis attack Benezia had pulled on us. I didn't like the way it made us completely helpless, even if it way only for a short time.

It seemed like the battle was never-ending. I timed my shots, firing so as to avoid overheat. Asari commandos and geth fell, a steady strobing blue light telling me Liara was still on her feet. Shepard's Rakou sent round after round down the platform, and still every time we took out the targets, Benezia would freeze us and call in more reinforcements.

"She's weakening," Liara called after four or five waves.

"Move up," was Shepard's order in response. Still firing, I took out the last of the geth in time to see Shepard sight down her pistol at Benezia. Her finger twitched, and I knew it would only take a single move from the Matriarch to end her life. She seemed oblivious however, still spouting her drivel.

"This is not over. Saren is unstoppable. My mind is filled with his light. Everything is clear."

"The rachni didn't cooperate with you. Why should I?" Shepard was shaking in effort not to shoot, her morals battling her compulsion to survive.

A change seemed to overcome Benezia as she continued to speak, though whether it was the presence of her daughter or the weapons I'm not sure. "I will not betray him. You will… You…" Her shoulders drooped as if the weight of a star had fallen upon them. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. Filled with sorrow and regret. "You must listen. Saren still whispers in my mind. I can fight his compulsions. Briefly. But the indoctrination is strong."

"So you could turn on us again?"

"Yes. But it would not be my will, Shepard. People are not themselves around Saren. You come to idolize him. Worship him. You would do anything for him. The key is Sovereign, his flagship. It is a dreadnought of incredible size and its power is extraordinary."

"Where'd he get it?" Shepard relaxed slightly, but her pistol was still held at the ready.

"I cannot say. The geth did not build it. Its technology is far more advanced than that of any known species. The longer you stay aboard, the more Saren's will seems correct. You sit at his feet and smile as his words pour into you. It is subtle at first. I thought I was strong enough to resist. Instead, I became a willing tool, eager to serve. He sent me here to find the location of the Mu Relay. Its position was lost thousands of years ago."

"How the hell do you lose something that big?"

"Four thousand years ago a star nearby went supernova. The shockwave propelled the relay out of its system, but did not damage it. Its precise vector and speed are impossible to determine. As millennia passed, the nebula created by the nova enveloped the relay. It is difficult to find any cold object in interstellar space. Particularly something swathed in hot dust and radiation. Two thousand years ago, the rachni inhabited that region of our galaxy. They discovered the relay. The rachni can share memories across generations. Queens inherit the knowledge of their mothers. I took the location of the relay from the queen's mind. I was not gentle." Her regret was as palatable as the cold in the air around us. Shepard seized upon that and used it.

"You can still make it right. Give me the information."

"I was not myself, but… I should have been stronger. I transcribed the data to an OSD. Take it. Please." As the Matriarch approached, my own rifle came up imperceptibly. I didn't trust her, not one bit.

Liara spoke up, her voice business-like but tainted by her pain, "Knowing the relay's coordinates is not enough. Do you know where he planned to go from there?"

"Saren wouldn't tell me his destination. But you must find out quickly. I transmitted the coordinates to him before you arrived. You have to stop... me. I can't... his teeth are at my ear. Fingers on my spine." She walked away, internal conflict continuing, "You should… Uh, you should…"

"Mother, I… don't leave! Fight him!" All pretense of being detached was gone. This was a plea from daughter to mother.

All Matriarch Benezia was able to say before succumbing once again was, "You've always made me proud, Liara." She started to glow, biotics preparing, and Shepard fired a single shot. Benezia slumped over as her vital systems began to shut down. "I cannot go on. You will have to stop him, Shepard."

"Hold on. We've got medi-gel, maybe we can…" I looked at her. She was tense, desperate to undo the action she'd just been forced to take.

"No. He is still in my mind. I am not entirely myself. I never will be again." She looked to Liara, "Good night, Little Wing. I will see you again with the dawn." The energy went out of her body as she whispered, "No light? They always said there would be… Ah…"

"Mother, No!" Liara cried, more in defiance than despair, and knelt before the fallen asari.

Shepard's attention shifted, the set of her shoulders saying she was looking for anything to focus on other than the scene she had just created. She moved towards the giant rachni in her glass prison. She was so engrossed, she didn't notice the shuffling figure that moved her way.

"Shepard…" I warned, voice urgent but not raised, unsure what to make of the asari corpse that had just risen before me.

The Commander whirled, pistol appearing in her hand as if by magic, in a show of speed that never ceased to amaze me. The commando didn't notice the weapon or the woman, though. Her shambling steps led her to the encasement, where she turned and spoke in a voice not her own: " This one. Serves as our voice. We cannot sing. Not in these low spaces. Your musics are colorless." The sound held a flanging to it, something alien and unreal that caused us all to shiver.

The rachni queen continued to speak, explaining the way sound appeared as color to them. She begged Shepard to kill any of her children we ran across, claiming they weren't capable of coexisting with our kind in their present state. And then, in the same almost monotone, she asked about her own fate. I already knew what Shepard would say.

"I won't destroy your entire race. You'll go free. Don't make me regret it."

The rachni queen's response was disbelieving as well as thankful, "You will give us the chance to compose anew? We will remember. We will sing of your forgiveness to our children." A touch of a few buttons sent her on her way, leaving us in silence.

"Come on; let's get the hell out of this place. I think I need to go bathe in a can of bug spray."

* * *

Needless to say, the Council was less than pleased with the Commander's decision. Shepard was fuming by the time she hit the cargo hold, pacing back and forth and kicking anything that got in her way. She kept going on about the stupidity of the Council as a whole, and those "Damn superior turians and their genocidal tendencies." I probably should have been upset, but I'd run into Counselor Sparatus one or two times in the Citadel, and was pretty sure I knew how he had responded to the queen's release. At some point Shepard realized what she was saying, though, because she stopped and blushed from hair to collar, shutting her mouth with and audible snap.

"Garrus, I didn't mean…"

Smiling internally, I glared at her, trying to maintain a serious posture in spite of the laughter that was threatening to escape me. Wrex, Ash, and Tali, who had been drawn by the banging noises associated with flying equipment, drew back at my expression. Teandra shifted uncomfortably, words trailing off. Finally, unable to keep up the charade any longer, I said, "You know, little Spectre, you're kind of cute when you're angry…"

The cargo bay exploded into raucous laughter. The look on her face, a combination of irritation and embarrassment, was enough to break my playfully stiff demeanor, and soon both of us were chuckling as well.

As the noise died down, she fixed that trademark mischievous grin on me, and said, "Vakarian, I promised a solution for that attitude of yours. Get to the galley. It's _beyond_ time I taught you chess."


	14. A Day in the Life...

**Chapter 14- A Day in the Life…**

"I would think you'd be tired of losing by now," I quipped, dodging a kick aimed for my chest plating and lunging in turn to grab the outstretched leg. She wobbled for a moment before regaining her balance, then doing a controlled drop to the ground, effectively breaking my grasp. I dropped to all fours and pounced, but missed pinning her by a millisecond or so.

"I'll beat you fair and square one day, Vakarian."

"I was referring to the battles of wits, though I'm not sure if it's fair to fight someone unarmed for such a competition."

She remained crouched, refusing to rise to my baiting. All she did was grin, a sure sign that whatever she had up her sleeves was likely to be hurting me for days to come.

We'd started having these rounds daily, as well as squeezing in time for chess matches, one of which had lasted a week as we attempted to outmaneuver each other. The game itself had not been difficult to grasp, as it seemed to be a primitive version of _Fleet and Warlords_. There were small nuances, but nothing that wasn't easily overcome. We'd even become so well matched that she refused to spot me a piece anymore, following one very intense game involving two very skilled knights and a bloodthirsty bishop.

In return, I had shown her _Warrior_ , a virtual reality program meant to screen turian military recruits that was in actuality used as a competitive sport. These matches weren't as frequent, as the cargo bay could only take so much damage, but I wasn't kicking her ass for very long. She was too natural a hunter for that.

She feinted left, drawing my attention back to our sparring match in time for me to see her duck right and lightly tap me on the soft spot opposite the underside of my arm.

"Match," she said, backing away and smirking at her assumed success. Growling, I pounced and pinned her, ignoring her outraged cry and indignation.

"I don't think so, little Spectre. Not a lethal blow on a turian," I stared down at her as I kept her arms pinned, thoroughly enjoying her pissed off expression. My victory didn't last long though. She regained her composure, took the time to quirk a single eyebrow at me, and then sent me reeling as she head butted me with all the force she could muster.

The power behind the blow screwed my equilibrium, and soon our positions were reversed as she straddled me to use her stronger thigh muscles in an attempt to keep me immobilized.

"Damn, Vakarian. You've got a hard ass head, you know that?" she sounded a little winded herself, not that I was in any position to be smug about it.

I shook the object in question, breathing heavily as I waited on the light flashes to pass.

"So what do I do with you now, you big bully? Should I pull another knife on you?"

Thankfully, the sneak suit had never made its reappearance, but the form fitting pants and cropped tops she now sparred in left little more to the imagination. There was no where for her to keep one.

"You're bluffing, little Spectre, and it's unbecoming…" I made as if to push her off, flexing my arm muscles against her inner legs, but was unable to break her hold. She'd gotten _strong_. A metallic snick caught my attention as I struggled, and I jerked my head towards the sound.

"You underestimate my ingenuity, Garrus." She inclined her head towards the object in her hands, "Switchblade," she cooed, flicking it back and forth so the dark blade caught the light.

"Where in the hell did you _hide_ it?" I asked in disbelief.

She leaned forward, bringing her face mere inches from mine, looking me face to face. That huntress's glint from our first sparring match was back, and as she opened her mouth to speak, hair curtaining her features, another voice intruded:

"Am I interrupting something?" Came Alenko's voice from the doorway, arms crossed and facial expression one of anger and distrust. He was glaring at Teandra as if she had struck him. She laughed guiltily, jumping off and replying flippantly, "Of course not, Kaidan. Standard daily sparring match in which _I_ cheat to kick _Vakarian's_ ass." She hit the button on the switchblade, resheathing it with another muffled snick.

Alenko huffed, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. Shaking her head in exasperation at the biotic's display, Teandra used some sort of sleight of hand to make the switchblade disappear. Moving to the side of the ring, she wiped the sweat from her upper body before moving back to do her usual cool-down stretches. The companionable silence that followed lasted for a few minutes as I watched her casually.

"Why do you do that?" she asked.

I tilted my head in question, "Do what?"

"Watch me cool down? I feel like I'm under a microscope with you some days." I hesitated before answering, unsure of how she'd take my response.

"I'm comparing human and turian physiology, I suppose. Your body flexes, moves, and builds muscle in a way mine doesn't. Also, your movements have become more predatory than when I first met you, and I find it fascinating… from a professional perspective, of course."

She continued stretching her arm, digesting the information before responding. "I'm probably picking up on the way you move and emulating it. Sometimes, that sort of instinct is all that saves me from that impossible reach of yours."

I laughed, flexing my shoulder plates before continuing, "You still didn't tell me where the knife was hidden."

She stopped and stared at me with a mischievous grin before tossing me the knife that hadn't been in her hands the moment before. I examined the remarkable craftsmanship as she resumed her katas. Its handle was smooth, a sort of pink stone with white swirls throughout. The blade mechanism was flawless as I pressed the button experimentally. The six inch blade it revealed was a sort of overlapping steel, tinted black, in a design that would give it strength and durability. "It's beautiful," I murmured.

"It was a gift from Finch after the first time he raped me. Said I earned it because I didn't cry." Her voice was hard, but not despairing, as it had been the first time she'd spoken of him. "I was probably about fourteen or so. I'm surprised he waited those four whole years…" She reached up to touch her throat before realizing what she was doing. Staring at the offending hand in disgust, she plopped down with legs crossed and continued speaking.

"He was the one who taught me the sleight-of-hand, the lock picking, the sparring… I was as much his protégé as his plaything. He figured he could mold me into a heartless killing machine. He even managed to get it half right." Her voice was calmer now, as if talking about the events of her childhood was helping her come to terms with them. I waved my talon in a motion for her to continue, relaxing further into my own sitting position.

"It backfired, I suppose. He should have tried harder to break me. I was a good little pupil until that rape, but then that final violation caused me to break free one little piece at a time. Each new thing he used to try to humiliate me caused me to snap a little more, until one day I lost it and ran.

"Made the stupid, rookie mistake of trying to pick an Alliance soldiers pocket. But after hearing parts of my story the man convinced me to join the military. It was Anderson, of course, and he had me sold at the promise to get off world."

She laughed, a joyless and bitter sound, but a laugh none-the-less.

"Wonder what people would think if they knew the savior of the galaxy was really a petty thief at heart?" She stood, gathering her things as she did so. I tossed her the knife, watching as she deliberately slowed her movements so I could see her tuck it down the front of the low shirt, her way of answering my question.

"That the Reapers better hide their credit chits, little Spectre," I said, joining her as we made our way out the makeshift arena, the one place we would always be partners.

* * *

Alenko was fuming when we reached the galley, but we paid him no mind in our search for food, ravenous after our match. Teandra rummaged through the cold storage as I approached the synthesizer, which produced a green paste when prompted. This was a protein dish called _ritala_ , subsisting of _boska_ meat and a mixture of native turian vegetables. Shepard brought her own dish to the table, a strange looking yellow and red food she called pasta marinara. We both ended up laughing as we tried to say the names of the others', our strangely shaped mouths struggling over the unfamiliar words without the aid of our translators.

This was another ritual, the comparing of languages and cultures, a simple pleasure before the hassles of the day were to truly begin. Later, there would be gunfire, corrupt corporations, and mercenaries. But for now, in this moment, it's just me and Shepard, two people instead of warriors. For now, we are comrades.

* * *

A day of battle inevitably ends with us cleaning our armor on the floor of the galley, entertaining the company of each other and the crew as we perform the mindless task. Once, we had used the table, but after several irate speeches from Doctor Chakwas about health and safety violations, we settled for the floor. Shepard had been particularly careful with her new set of Predator M armor that replaced the suit busted on Noveria, taking special care to remove the blood in varying shades from the adorning creases.

"Stupid place for a decoration. Who cares if you look good while you shoot them in the face?"

"Ylang-ylang…" I coughed, rewarded by her brief glare before she laughed too. Nodding at my Volkov, she said, "And you don't think that's a little too decorative to get the job done sometimes?"

"Hey, leave Jerlah alone. She's served me _very_ well."

"You _named_ your rifle? _Really?_ And it's a freakin' girl?"

"Yep. Just like most of the women I know: cold, temperamental, and can take you out with one blow."

Snorting, she set the last of her armor aside and started on her Harpoon, disassembling it with deft movements in a matter of seconds.

"Okay, your choice tonight. What _lovely_ turian movie do you have picked out? And by _lovely_ I mean so packed with violence and gore there's no room for a plot."

"Says the woman who tricked me into watching _Predator_ by saying it was really a turian ruined by bad special effects…"

"Say what you want, Schwarzenegger was the greatest action hero of his day. I've got another one where he plays a really _cool_ villain on my list too, so get used to it."

I shook my head and thought for a moment. "Got it. How about _The Krogan Emissary_ , comedy about a peace treaty brought from Tuchanka at the beginning of the Krogan Rebellions? It's stereotypical, but funny as hell."

Reassembling her rifle, she nodded her agreement and gathered her armor into its case. "1800 it is then."

The movie was full of horrid examples of overly violent turians and unintelligent krogan. Despite that we laughed long into the night at the makeshift screen we'd created in the galley, and sat as friends, enjoying the downtime from saving the galaxy.


	15. Edolas

**Chapter 15- Edolas**

"That's it, pull over. I'm driving," I yelled, using one arm to brace against the ceiling.

"We're almost at the coordinates, you big baby. Besides, we were only upside down for a few seconds…"

"What you're doing to my girl is a crime, Shepard," I replied sardonically.

"Planning on arresting me, Officer Vakarian?" She turned and raised an eyebrow, causing us to hit a particularly violent bump.

"Didn't know you were into that kind of thing, Shepard." She grinned wryly, but was unable to retort as a yell came from the other seat.

" _Will you two be quiet?_ Keelah, I do not feel so well…" Shepard turned back around quickly, Tali's comment proving my point about her driving skills. I snorted, commenting, "Hey Tali. If you throw up in that suit, what happens to it, exactly?"

Her head turned to face in my direction, glare invisible but obvious. "Probably want to be careful, Vakarian," came Shepard's voice from the front seat again, "She's been working on an improved time delay device for her grenades. _Might_ not want to piss her off, or she may decide to test it on you."

Tali leaned back and crossed her arms, looking smug, and I held up my hands in a placating gesture. I was rewarded by another hard bump causing me to knock my fringe painfully against the roof, and I let out a curse as the MAKO slowed to a standstill.

"We're here, people. Let's check out that distress beacon."

We dismounted into the sand, me still rubbing my head absently as I took in the desert and the comforting heat. We were at the edge of a conspicuously flat area, an abandoned M29 Grizzly blocking our view of most of the basin. To its right was our distress beacon, but there were no signs of the life forms that would have activated it.

"Something doesn't feel right, Commander," I said. She nodded, drawing her Razer and motioning us forward. As we rounded the vehicle, two bodies came into view, already beginning to mummify in the dry heat.

Moving forward to kneel and examine a corpse, Shepard said, "Where are the rest of them? There would have been at least six people needed to maintain that M29…" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tali move towards the beacon, keying in a series of codes to deactivate the object. But no sooner had she shut down her omni-tool than the ground started vibrating beneath our feet. Confused, I turned back to the Commander in time to hear her scream with barely controlled panic.

" _Dammit, t_ _hresher maw!_ Get in the damn MAKO! _Go, go, go!"_ She shoved me in the indicated direction, running towards Tali and yanking her behind her as she made a direct line for our only protection. The shaking grew as we ran, slowing the girls slightly as they moved. Grabbing a hold of the back hatch I swung myself in to the driver's seat feet first, starting the vehicle in one smooth motion. "Hurry up, ladies!  Time to go!" The two women jumped in seconds later, Shepard sticking her tongue out as she took control of the guns while Tali hurriedly closed the hatch.

"Vakarian, keep us moving once that damn thing rears its ugly head. Circle it, but don't get too close. Tali, keep us mobile as best you can. I've got a little present for the damn thing…"

Putting the MAKO in motion, I pulled from around the Grizzly just as the ground exploded to our right, revealing a creature that could only be described as the stuff of nightmares. It towered over us, shadowing the vehicle briefly as we desperately moved out of melee range. The insect-like creature was covered in a dark exoskeleton leading up to it massive mouth, a feature that seemed to take up the entire top portion of its body. It opened, letting out an infrasound cry that buried itself within my brain causing a sense of terror and despair to war with my self-discipline. The blue glow that was once again hidden as the mouth closed was also present on the skin above its orifice, giving the viewer an impression of two glaringly evil eyes hunting you, two front mandibles just waiting to pull you in.

A strangled, angry cry escaped Shepard as she began firing, alternating between the MAKO's cannon and the coaxial machine gun in an almost unbroken series of shots. I followed the Commander's instructions, circling the beast as it turned to follow us, spitting some kind of green poisonous acid at us in regular intervals. The splashback from the first of these depleted our shields instantly, already weakened from the abuse the vehicle had taken on the way over the dunes.

"Shields down. Vehicle system levels critical," I informed her.

"Find a secure position and get it fixed. I'll hold it off with the canon." She fired another such blast as if to prove her point.

"I will have to reroute power to do the repairs, Shepard. We will be defenseless," Tali told her.

"Fuck…" She hesitated as I kept us moving, finally replying, "Just do it. I'll handle it."

I stopped the vehicle after the next acid attack, hoping to buy us some time while it readied another. There was a squeal of metal against metal as the back hatch was reopened. _What the hell?_ I turned just in time to see Shepard jump from the vehicle. I shoved past Tali in pursuit, assault rifle at the ready.

The Commander was already shouldering her grenade launcher, firing a high intensity explosive round as my armored feet hit ground once again. The beast roared in pain and frustration, burying itself, as I ran after her.

"Shepard, _what the fuck?_ You can't take the damn thing down on foot…" I was interrupted by the thresher rearing again, less than twenty feet to our left and putting us well within melee range.

" _Shut up and fucking shoot, turian_." Her voice was cold, dismissive, as she ducked and rolled left while firing another shot. The creature drew back for a close range attack, and I added several three round bursts in its direction as I tried to distract it from its intended target. It screamed again, turning to send a spray of poison in my direction, but I was already dodging. Cursing at the stupidity of the move, I saw with relief that at least it had bought Shepard time to get out immediate range. We both resumed firing, sending the thing back into hiding once more.

"We are back online, Shepard," came Tali's voice, and sweet relief rushed through me as I moved towards the MAKO. Half a second later I realized my footsteps had not been echoed. The Commander hadn't moved, only reloaded her launcher as she muttered over the comm, "I've got this, damnit. Time for a little payback."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This wasn't some damn mercenary band; this was a monster from the depths of hell. I was well aware of her history on Akuze, but now was not the time. Retreating to her form, I snatched her arm to make her face me, hissing, "Get in the fucking MAKO, Teandra. Your vendetta's going to get us all killed." Without waiting for an answer, I dragged her towards the open hatch and shoved her inside. She stumbled but didn't fight me, immediately resuming her position on the turret and opening fire as the creature showed itself. With a final scream it went down, and I got on the radio.

"Joker, schedule a pickup ASAP."

* * *

Anger coursed through me, but I managed to get Tali on her way and the MAKO situated before going in search of the Commander. Spirits, I was pissed. It wasn't her need for revenge; if anyone understood that particular emotion in the galaxy I did. But she had been sloppy, overcome by her emotions and putting her team in danger. And for what? It wasn't even the one that had attacked her unit, just some stand-in to vent her anger upon. And it wasn't as if we weren't planning on killing the damn thing. What difference did it make if it fell from her grenade launcher or the MAKO's guns?

What worried me most is that sloppiness was just not Commander Shepard's style. In all my time on the _Normandy_ , she adapted and planned and discussed. She didn't _wing it_ , and being careless was something I had never thought her capable of. She always carried a hard edge of iron control under the outer layer of playfulness that forcefully reminded those around her that she was a soldier as well as a woman; that it was within her power to end their very existence with little more than a thought.

I knew I didn't have much room to criticize, my father's words about my own hotheadedness being well warranted. But in truth, I didn't care if she shot up the whole galaxy as long as she didn't get stupid in the process.

I found her seated at her desk in her room, typing up the mission report with deft and forceful motions. Without preface, I approached, pissed as a krogan in a firefight.

"What the _fuck_ were you thinking, Shepard?" She finished the line she was typing, before calmly looking up at me, eyes cold and dead.

"Taking down the enemy, Vakarian. And you had better check your tone before I have you court-martialed. I'm still the Commander of this vessel." She pointedly returned her attention to the screen and resumed her typing, signaling the conversation was over.

Her words stung me, already incensed as I was. _So that's how you want to play it, Shepard? Fine._

Snapping to attention, I did an about face and stalked towards the elevator. Rage overcame me, and I slammed a fist into the bulkhead before I rounded the corner, hard enough to leave a dent.

The elevator ride seemed longer than normal, and upon reaching the cargo bay the others took one look at me and scattered, giving me a small measure of satisfaction. I moved behind the MAKO, an area I'd commandeered to use as my personal sleeping area, preferring a cot to the undersized sleeper pods. Quickly changing out of my sand-encrusted armor, I contemplated working on the MAKO's repairs before dismissing the notion. I was too angry, and would probably screw something up in my distraction. Reaching beneath my cot, I instead dragged out the case that contained the equipment for _Warrior,_ my twinging hand reminding me of the stupidity of getting into a fight with a metal wall. I opened it, examining to make sure both sets were still there after the last time Teandra and I had used them.

The program was a simulstim, a complex virtual reality program and simple equipment that buried you within the environment it created. An eyepiece and headset, which had surprisingly adjusted easily to Shepard's very different features, transmitted the visual and auditory information. Everything else you experienced was controlled through a series of stimulation nodes placed at the top of the spinal cord. This last was optional for the game, since it was a holdover from its days as a military training program. It increased the realism of the scenario, stimulating your body so that you could feel and even smell the environment. But it also caused you to feel every bullet or injury you took if it were real. I hadn't allowed Shepard to use that aspect of the system, though I had explained its use, unsure how it would affect a human. Her smart ass response?

 _"So, turians basically spent too much time watching SAO as kids?"_ Unsurprisingly, I had no clue what she was talking about.  You know, for a change.

Meanwhile, the only reason the more sensory feature of the game was making an appearance today was that the pain was preferable to my numbness and anger at the Commander's moods.

As the members of the cargo bay wandered off towards dinner, I hooked myself up to the varying equipment, removing my own eyepiece to replace it with the dual set. Taking up the simulation rifle and flipping the switch to assault, I fired up the game. Immediately, my senses were assaulted by the heat and earthy smell of one of Palaven's swamp-like jungles. Without hesitation I went into predatory mode, able to truly release that animal side of me for the first time in what seemed like forever. I scanned my surrounding environment, as more than once I'd been attacked almost as soon as my feet hit the ground, depending on what algorithm the program used. Today seemed to have given me a stealth scenario, however, and I turned off all emotions not associated with a sniper scope.

Turning the switch on the mock rifle to sniper, an acog scope materialized as the game responded. Creeping forward on quiet talons I trod upon the soft ground, enveloped in the sound of chirping insects and creaking trees. This wasn't a script I had played through before, and some part of me half-heartedly wished Shepard was with me; then I silently berated myself going soft in her presence. I was well within my element now, however, and moved forward with rifle at the ready.

Happening on a clearing, I sensed something amiss and halted at the edge, hesitant to continue. Reaching down, I snatched up a wet branch and skipped it through the clearing, managing to duck as the trap sprung. Ropes creaked as a sizable branch was released, snapping towards me with the force of a rampaging krogan and missing me by inches. Unsure whether that was the only trap, I began to circle the clearing when the world in front of me glitched momentarily, almost instantly returning to normal. Disregarding it as a power surge, I made it around and hadn't moved ten steps when the crack of a rifle caused me to drop. A wet thud alerted me to the bullet that had buried itself in the tree to my right at head level.

I low crawled a few feet, wallowing in the mire to give myself a coat of natural camouflage. Listening, the silence engulfed me, as if my computerized opponent was reconsidering after their earlier slip. As I waited though, scanning the trees, and I caught the glint of a scope a hundred feet to my left. _Hah… got you now._ Deliberately I brought the rifle to bear, sighting and gently squeezing the trigger in between breaths. The shot flew true, and I knew it should be a lethal blow and expected the program to terminate. Instead, I was rewarded by a muffled scream. Confused, I realized belatedly what must have happened.

"Teandra, you fucking _ben'jee_ …" I cursed, ripping off my headset and rushing to her prone form at the side of the hold. I had to get her out of the program before the pain receptors in her smaller frame were overloaded, possibly doing irreparable damage. I knelt, tossing away the make-shift rifle and removing quickly and carefully the nodes and equipment. She lay there, eyes closed, and refused to wake up. Heart clenching, I vowed to throw the damn game away as I began to lift her to take her to Chakwas. A firm hand on my arm stopped me, however, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Damn, I _think_ I've got a headache… that's assuming my head is still attached at the moment," were her brilliant words.

Torn between hitting her for her stupidity and embracing her for still being alive, I replied quietly and forcefully, "Serves you right, little Spectre. That was stupid. What were you thinking? Surely not that you could outsnipe me?" I helped her sit up.

She smiled, then winced as the motion pained her, and dropped her head into her palms. From there, she responded through her hands, "I'm not sure what was going through my head, Garrus. Maybe I was appealing to your ego, as if it needs it. I guess was trying to apologize."

"And you thought shooting at me was the way to accomplish that?" I crossed my arms, glaring down at her.

She looked up to meet my irritated gaze, somehow managing to portray a wry grin through her pain, "What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Vakarian."


	16. Of Chess And Fellowship

**Chapter 16- Of Chess and Fellowship**

If looks could kill, I think Doctor Chakwas would have had me buried when I brought Shepard into the medical bay relying heavily on my arm. Teandra had almost refused completely, but I had threatened to carry her there in full view of the entire crew, which had sufficiently cowed her into admiting the wisdom of the idea of going on her own two feet.

As I helped her sit on the bed, Chakwas moved around her, forcing the Commander to tell in her own words what had happened.

"Commander, let me get this straight. You tried out an alien stimulation system _meant_ to cause you pain? Was that wise?"

Shepard had the decency to look sheepish as she said, "No, as everyone keeps telling me," shooting me a nasty look. The doctor ran some kind of tool over her patient's forehead, before tsk-ing and moving away to a cabinet, returning with something small in her hands.

"All the advanced science in the galaxy and you're giving me aspirin?" Shepard asked.

"Don't criticize it. Most of that science isn't tailored to the human systems yet, as you should have realized before tampering with some of it." Sufficiently chagrined, Shepard dry-swallowed the pills.

"You're going to need to stay awake for at least another couple of hours while I make sure you don't have a concussion. I would prefer you remain here where I can keep an eye on you."

Shepard sighed heavily, but agreed. Looking at me, she asked, "Up for a round of chess? You could even spot the poor invalid your queen…"

"Not a chance, little Spectre, but I'll let you take white if you want."

"And that helps? You're just as good at reacting to my moves as taking the first strike… but fine, I accept."

I left the med-bay to retrieve the chess board from her room across the galley, Tali shooting me a look. I sent her a small nod, letting her know without saying that everything was okay. I'd let her deal with the crew's questions; she was better at it. Opening the door and grabbing the wooden set from Shepard's desk, I reflected for a moment on the strangeness of such a primitive object. It had been a gift for Shepard from Anderson when she graduated basic training, and you'd be hard pressed to find versions of it that weren't computerized anymore. But Teandra and I both agreed that the feel of actual pieces was superior to any simulation.

Making my way back through the galley, I heard a voice ask with scarcely camouflaged hatred and worry, "Another chess match?"

Trying not to sigh, I turned to Alenko, still focused on calibrating that damn panel he was always working on. His face had never been as easy to read as Shepard's, but it didn't take an expert to figure out what he was thinking.

"Yep. And you could always come and watch, you know. I'm sure she'd enjoy your company." He stared at me for a minute, disbelieving, before replying in a sulky tone, "Didn't know I was invited."

I moved forward to lean over the panel, chess set still in hand. Maybe it wasn't the best timing, but it had been a very long day, and I was tired of Alenko's crap.

"Let me give you a friendly piece of advice, human. Maybe if you spent less time being jealous of something that exists only in your head, and more time listening to the woman you claim to care for, then you would know you have _always_ been invited."

"But…"

"Don't 'but' me." I leaned a little closer, looking him eye to eye. "I've never been anything more than her friend. But make no mistake, I _am_ her friend. And if you hurt her, I'll kill you. So get your ass together and involve yourself in whatever you both have, or quit punishing her with your inattention when she needs it most." My voice, I was proud to say, was kindly with just a dash of threatening. I was more than a little pissed at his childish behavior. I know that if the woman I claimed to be _my_ mate had been hurt, _I'd_ be by her side. Kaidan nodded, eyes thoughtful, and I turned and crossed the distance to the med bay.

"I was about to send out a search party, Garrus," was Shepard's teasing greeting as I came in, the door whooshing.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a nice, friendly chat with your buddy Kaidan." She blanched even paler than she already was.

"Oh God, what did he say now? He's not still pissed about the sparring match, is he? Cause that wasn't your fault…" I laughed at her discomfort.

"Easy… it was nothing quite so serious. I got the impression he's feeling a little neglected by a certain female Commander, and gave him some manly advice on assertiveness." She blushed.

"Damn Garrus, what are you trying to do to me? We _flirt_ , and he thinks it means kids and a white picket fence. You want him to get _more_ aggressive?"

I stopped in my tracks, looking at her for a moment in confusion, "So you _don't_ like him?"

She grinned a little as I retrieved a table and chair, positioning them near her bedside. "On some level, yeah. He's sexy as hell, and he has a noble streak that any girl would appreciate. But he also never takes the time to get to know _me;_ he doesn't see me as anything but the great hero of the Alliance. That's nothing to base a relationship off of. I'm not sure he gets that. He's got me on a pedestal, and I could never spend my life with someone who wasn't my equal in all things. After all, those damn pedestals hurt when you fall off."

I handed her the white pieces. "Sounds like the voice of experience."

" _You_ try being the poster child for surviving against all odds due to military training. You know it was luck, but they try to turn you into some big hero. And all the while, people who were closer than family to you are dead, and you're not." Her voice got a little quieter, slightly more contemplative, "When you're alone and desperate, sometimes you'll take anything over feeling numb. So you turn to those admirers and become nothing more than a _very_ unique notch on their bedpost. Then you get tossed out like yesterday's trash when they're done." She moved her king's pawn up two spaces, starting the game, as if to make sure I understood she didn't want to discuss the statement she'd just made further. I _did_ understand, and changed the subject.

"But you've got that here, right? Family I mean…" I brought my own pawn to meet hers.

Shooting a pointed look at the still bustling Chakwas, she said, "Yeah, I get enough _mothering_ to last me a lifetime…" The doctor grinned but otherwise ignored her. Shepard went on, moving her king's knight to flank her pawn. "You act like you've never had relationship troubles, but there's no way someone with your personality stayed single for very long."

"Never been much of one for that kind of thing, actually. There's been a few girls here and there..." I saw her cross her arms in response to this, a single red arch rising in disbelief, and I chuckled, "Okay, _more_ than a few, but nothing all that serious. I talk a big game, little Spectre, but the military makes it hard to keep up anything long term. And police work isn't much better, since cases can keep you buried in the little things for days. Then there's the relationship destroying creature that is undercover work. It's always seemed easier just to save myself the trouble of dealing with the baggage or the stress." I moved my king's bishop's pawn up to flank my endangered one, cutting off her maneuver.

"Great. Now you're telling me I'm playing against the turian version of Sherlock Holmes?"

"Who's that?" I studied the board, awaiting both her response and her move.

"Literary detective credited for being the first written example of using forensics. He's famous for two things: seeing details no one else noticed and being a dedicated bachelor. Some circles even speculated he was gay, though I always kinda thought they were full of crap." She moved her knight to take my pawn as she smiled at me, "You're not planning on hitting on Wrex anytime soon, are you?"

Refusing to be distracted, I took the knight with my pawn and said, "Yep, just as soon as you and Ash quit making out in the galley…"

Kissing was something brought up in one of those odd conversations that followed our movie sessions. We discovered that while some ways of showing affection translated across species, kissing was one that didn't seem to have a turian equivalent. The mouth movement itself didn't seem like it would even be possible, not that I'd ever need to try it. The cultural difference, however, made it interesting.

" _It seems like it's similar to the turian forehead bump," I say, watching intently as the couple onscreen began their display. This pair, named Wesley and Buttercup, is one of the more completely romantic pairs she has exposed me to. Shepard sushes me._

" _Are you gonna talk through the whole movie? We're only five minutes in and you haven't shut up..." She stops, as if just having heard me, "Forehead bump? Really?"_

" _There's a vulnerable spot in the plating there. It's a matter of trust to expose it to someone."_

" _Wolves do the same thing, by exposing their necks to those who have shown dominance, and trusting their Alpha not to harm them." Her rapt gaze never leaves the screen as she speaks, Buttercup seeming to be in the midst of declaring her never-ending love for Wesley, who's been killed by pirates as he ran off to make his fortune to earn her hand in 'marriage' (as Shepard called the Rites)._

" _I will never love again," I see Teandra mouth along with the actress. This is the moment I realize that no matter what else she says, my friend is a closet romantic. I can't interpret her actions as anything else._

I found myself wondering after that afternoon, once again, how Shepard and Alenko's interactions could be considered a romantic relationship. Most of her movie choices were centered around the theme of disregarding social taboos in favor of emotional attachment, something she seemed fascinated with. 'Star-crossed lovers' was the phrase she used. When seeing her reaction to these romanticized concepts she idolized on film, her ties to Alenko paled by comparison.

She raised an eyebrow at me again in response to my comment, saying "Check" as she moved her queen out to the left side of the board, endangering my now unprotected king.

"I'm sure your dear old dad was pleased at your dedication, at least." The barely concealed contempt in her voice made me look up from the board, and I was pretty sure I wouldn't want to be my father the day he met Teandra Shepard for the first time.

Moving my king up a space, I replied, "He never let me know, if that was the case. He pulled some strings to get me into C-Sec, then buried himself back in his 'busy life.' I haven't spoken to him, except over a camera feed, in five years." She moved her queen to take my pawn, saying "Check" once more.

"What about your mom?"

I tilted my head at her, eyes piercing. "What's with the fascination with my family all of a sudden?"

She pointed a finger at her chest, saying, "Orphan, remember? Families are yet one more thing I don't have experience in."

_So you ask about mine? My clan is not exactly the epitome of normalcy._

Sighing halfheartedly, I moved my king to the left as I conceded to her demands. "Mom left when I was ten; she just got sick of being my father's second wife. His job took priority, and Mom got fed up. You _can't_ know what it's like unless you've lived it, seeing someone twice a year and knowing the only thing separating you is glory and a paycheck. Thing is, what's the human term? Divorce?" She nodded slightly, confirming. "Right, well, it doesn't exist in my culture. When you mate yourself through rites to someone, you're making a _vow_ to bind yourself to them for life. Your paths have become one."

"Wiccan culture is similar. We have something called a hand-fasting, and you have the option of dedicating yourself to a person for a little while, or for a life-time."

"But humanity doesn't look at breaking vows in the same way turian culture does." She looked as if she were going to argue that point, but I held up a hand to forestall that, "You have honorable individuals, and then you have those who disregard all those around them. Turians, though? We even tend to tell the truth about the crimes we get caught committing, though we'll try to get away with it first. That's why Sparatus is so pissed at Saren. A person's honor is based heavily on them keeping their word. Misdirection and tactical maneuvers are okay, but blatantly lying? Well, dishonor is usually punished by the sword."

I sighed. "Separations aren't really done, but they're not unheard of, though there are a lot of steps to go through to even become rite-wed to begin with. We had a home on the Vakarian homestead in the middle of the clan held lands. Mom went there, taking Sol and Mishta, and used the start Sol's clan leader training as an excuse." Teandra tilted her head, and I answered the unspoken question.

"Being the eldest, when Mom finally passes it'll be her job to run the household and to regulate the extended family's interests in the Heirarchy's political decisions." I'd never meant to tell her so much about either my life or my family. Only a very few select people knew about the separation of Sabira and Castis Vakarian. Most of those were family that had to be made aware of it for day-to-day operational requirements. And now, apparently, my old boss. Then again, Venari Pallin and Dad had always been close, so it wasn't too much of a stretch to comprehend.

"Where did you end up in all of this?" She asked quietly. The game had been put on hold, her hands resting in her lap as the words poured from me. Usually, discussions of my family to anyone were short and pain-laced, quickly buried again as soon as I could manage it. But somehow, especially in reflection of her own revelations about her past, telling this to her felt like lancing a wound. Probably wouldn't heal it, but at least some of the poison would be expelled.

"I left everything behind for the chance to move in with Dad. Biggest mistake of my life. I barely saw him more than on Palaven, and then all we'd talk about was his work. He was famous, so the other kids found a target in me, the product of an unfounded jealousy in my family's status. It did make me pretty tough, but also made solitude something I grew very comfortable with. Instead, I would observe those around me without interacting, learning to read the different species body and vocal cues just from exposure to them. I dedicated myself to my schoolwork, too, and especially enjoyed anything that would let me prove my skills at analyzing information for flaws. There's just a sense of personal pride to be gained from realizing you have a knack for seeing what others don't. When father realized he'd passed some of his techniques on to me, he'd give me snippets from old cases and challenge me to solve them.

"It became a game, the exercises in logic, and in those brief moments we would connect the way we were supposed to for once. In fact, the highlight of my young life was the time I helped him solve a murder, all because I noticed a problem with a turian suspect's clan markings. It was the one, and only, time he ever said he was proud of me.

"I went to visit Mom as I got older, especially once I hit the military ranks. Even had a slew of battle buddies who eagerly volunteered to tag along when we had extended leave. Mom's cooking was always great, and it was usually an excuse for them to spend some time around Mishta and Sol." The sheer volume of the speech astounded me, the story seemingly trying to force its way from me before I bottled it up again. As if sensing me winding down, Shepard moved her king's bishop right four spaces, saying "Check" through her chuckles as she shook her head.

"You encouraged that? 'Cause you strike me as more of that protective type of brother."

"Hey, it let me pick and choose. By turian standards, Mishta was a great catch: beautiful, from a prominent military family, and had served her military service time in the Turian Lifebearer Brigade. They only take the best. Sol, on the other hand, wasn't just the heir of the family, but of the whole _cl_ _an_. Anyone she chose would be taking Vakarian markings instead of the other way around. She never did find anyone that met both her and Dad's approval, but Mishta chose perfectly in the end."

My queen's pawn went up two spaces, blocking her. She took it with the bishop, repeating "Check."

"You keep using the past tense, Garrus? Why?"

 _Damn... didn't realize that._ I shifted my king up to the left and out of immediate danger, and considered changing the subject. But no, for some spirits blasted reason I wanted her to hear the story. So I told her the rest.

"Mishta took the rites about the time I got out of the military, to an old battle buddy of mine from my last assignment on the _HSV Warlord._ She got pregnant almost right away, and both she and her unborn child died due to complications several months later. Mom kind of... faded away after that. We thought it was because of losing her daughter, but as we lost her more and more we got suspicious. Turns out, she had a disease that causes neurological degeneration. Her memories are going, and Sol is becoming more and more bitter as time passes and she has to run the clan in Mom's stead _and_ take care of her.

"So it's basically just Father and Sol now, and we spend most conversations fighting over pointless topics... So in a way, you could say I'm alone too." The grief of the losses of both people and relationships was still fresh, though I found myself reflecting that Shepard's company eased it to a dull ache as I continued to speak. She reached forward as if to grab my taloned hand, only to divert at the last second and move her rook's pawn up two spaces on the left side of the board, trying to pin my king.

"What was that about spotting you a piece, little Spectre? If this is how a concussion causes you to play, then I'll volunteer to let you hit me before our next match."

"I tried that… then you whined when I pulled my switch blade on you."

"Yeah, I've noticed cheating becomes your standby every time you start to lose."

She crossed her arms once again, watching me consider the board. "We humans have a saying, 'All's fair in love and war.'"

I finally moved my knight to the right of her bishop, replying, "So _that's_ why you keep torturing poor Alenko."

Her eyes narrowed as she moved her knight up in a mirror of my own move, and I gleefully took her queen with my own knight.

"Speaking of cheating, _that_ was a low blow…" She moved her bishop four spaces left on the board. "Check."

Snorting, I took it with my king. Glaring, she moved her attention away from the center of the board and moved her king side rook up two spaces. The silence stretched as I planned, seeing an end to the game if I could distract her. I moved my king's bishop to one space from the right of the board as she asked, giving me the perfect opening, "So, did you see much action in C-Sec?"

"Not as much as you, but I've run into a few interesting situations. There was a Salarian geneticist I was sent to investigate a while back. That case was a bit… disturbing." She moved her queen's pawn up two spaces as I continued, "I was tasked with tracking black market trade on the citadel. Most of it harmless, nothing I needed to pursue. But during the course of my investigation, I noticed an increase in the trade of body parts, organs mostly. We usually get a few of those, but not the numbers I was seeing. We weren't sure if there was a new black market lab, or if some freak was harvesting organs from citizens."

As I moved my bishop's pawn up to challenge hers, she prompted, "So what was it?"

"Both, actually. But it took us a while to figure that out. We got a hold of a sample and ran DNA tests. The weird thing was, the match led us to a turian who was still alive and was _very_ convinced he never lost his liver. After a bit of digging I discovered this turian worked briefly for Dr. Saleon, the geneticist. So I went to his lab hoping to find evidence of cloned organ development. But there was nothing: no salarian hearts, no turian livers, not one krogan testicle."

Shaking her head as if to remove that image, she quirked an eyebrow, "You're kidding, right? Krogan testicles? Do I even want to know what those would be used for…?"

I laughed at her response, "Some krogan believe testicle transplants can counteract the effects of the genophage. It doesn't work, but that doesn't stop them from buying. They'll pay up to 10,000 credits each, that's 40,000 for a full set. Somebody's making a killing out there." She moved her bishop diagonally to the right, settling once she endangered my queen.

"So what about Saleon?"

"I brought in some of his employees for interrogation to see if I could get them to talk. While I was 'interviewing' one of them, I came across something suspicious…"

She interrupted my flow of thought, seizing on something I'd said. "Interviewing? As in threatening? Was that _really_ necessary?"

I realized there was a lot about my time as an officer she didn't know. My actions tended to be the type that was filed under 'the ends justify the means.' I had mellowed somewhat in her presence, since she seemed to be able to talk her way out of almost any situation, but I still wasn't sure I agreed whole-heartedly with her way of thinking.

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it paid off. One of my detainees started bleeding profusely during the interview." She narrowed her eyes, but didn't comment, "We offered to patch him up and he got frantic, freaked out. I ordered a full exam to find out what was going on. Our medics found incisions all over his body, some of them fresh. That was our big break. These people weren't just Dr. Saleon's employees; they were test tubes. Walking, _living_ , test tubes."

Her horror was evident as she said, "He was growing parts _inside_ these people?"

I moved my queen forward to take her pawn as I spoke, "Exactly. He cloned their organs right inside their own bodies, then he harvested them and sold them off. Most of the victims were poor. He'd pay them each a small percentage of the sales, but only if the organs were good. Sometimes an organ wouldn't grow properly, so he'd just leave it in them. Most of them were a mess, but only on the inside, hidden, so nobody could see it."

"I hope he got what he deserved."

"That's the worst part. He ran. Blew his lab, grabbed some of his employees, and made for the nearest space dock. By the time I found out, his ship was already leaving. He threatened to kill his hostages if we tried to stop him."

"Okay, if I know anything about you, then you went after him anyway, right?" She absently moved her rook over to block my queen's progress.

"I ordered Citadel defense to shoot him down, but C-Sec headquarters countermanded my order. They were worried about the hostages, worried about civilian casualties if the ship was destroyed so close to the Citadel. I told them those hostages were dead anyway, he'd just use them to make more organs, but they wouldn't listen. Letting him get away like that… All they had to do was disable that ship. Stop him from running. Maybe the hostages die, maybe they don't, but at least we stop the bastard responsible for it all." I moved my knight to the right of my queen.

"Check."

"I suppose I can see both sides… but do you have any idea what happened to Dr. Saleon?" There she was again, the placating politician that always made me want to break through the _boskaverna_ she was spouting. I had ulterior motives that day, both in the distraction and in the sudden realization she might be able to help me, so I held my smart remarks in check.

"I sent out feelers from time to time, hoping to find something. I thought I'd succeeded a while back. He changed ships and changed his name to Dr. Heart; his idea of a joke, I guess. I told the military, but they weren't convinced it was him. I got the transponder frequency for his new ship, but I just can't get anyone to check it out." She moved her king up one space, obviously not realizing how precarious the game had become.

"We'll check out the coordinates as soon as they _let me out of this med-bay_ ," she raised her voice in Doctor Chakwas' direction. Once again, the long-suffering doctor ignored her.

"Commander, take me with you when you go. I want to be there to help you take him down if it is Saleon; I want to be there when you find him."

"Like I'd _ever_ leave you behind…" her words trailed off as, with a flourish, I moved my Queen to take her right bishop's pawn.

"Checkmate, Commander."

"Did you tell me that story to distract me, Vakarian?" Her tone held a dangerous note.

Crossing my arm and flaring my mandibles in a smug grin, she read my posture and threw her pillow at me. Dodging it easily, I said, "How did you say it again, Teandra? All's fair in war and love?"


	17. Revelations

**Chapter 17- Revelations**

"Wait… Wait… _What_?" I managed to gasp between barks of laughter, " _Alenko_ wants to spar with us? This is a joke, right?"

Shepard glared at me, but a small smile pulled at her lips in response to my own amusement. Her features were shadowed by the underbelly of the MAKO we were currently working on, fixing the damage that had been done on Edolas. The whole drive shaft needed to be repaired, and the outer plating had several gaping holes from the thresher's acidic poison. From the time we had begun, one hour had become two, and then three; filling in the time with conversation had been an inevitable result.

"No, I'm not. And I told him he could use his biotics the first time, since he isn't in practice like we are."

"Let me guess: you're gonna play nice."

"No. I'm gonna kick his ass. The bad guys don't hold back, after all." Then she fixed me with an evil grin, "And if he sticks it out after I do, he just might be worth training with."

"You _do_ realize he just wants to see you in that sneak suit, right?" She crossed her arms. I pointed in the general direction of the tool pile, silently demanding for the wrench from top. She handed it to me.

"He might not enjoy the view so much if he knew what I really used to use that thing for."

"Here, grab that end…" I pointed at the left side of the rear drive shaft. Applying pressure to the wrench to secure it, I said, "And that was?"

"Assassinating enemy gang leaders. That thing's seen more blood than Shanxi."

I stopped moving, glancing at her slightly aghast. "Little Miss Morally Sound doesn't kill in cold blood…"

"I'm not that person anymore, Garrus. I left her with Finch." Her muscles tensed as she continued to hold the drive shaft, "But I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. There's a reason they used to call me the Red Widow." Her eyes moved away reflexively, looking more than a little embarassed, "I mean, how the hell do you think I _got_ half those targets vulnerable?"

I gave up all pretense of trying to work, gaping at her much the way Kaidan did half the time.

"Hold on, you _seduced_ your way to them? I knew you were persuasive, but…"

"Don't be so naïve, Garrus. Sex is a weakness and a weapon, one that most don't see coming."

I hesitated. "And the emotional aspect?"

"Emotional aspect? Doesn't apply to me." She handed me the next size wrench, taking the first one back. "Hell, I've only had sex sober once, and that was a total disaster. Guess I need the alcohol to turn my brain off so I can enjoy it."

I shook my head in disbelief, resuming tightening the bolts on the MAKO.

As if confused by my reaction, she assaulted me with an emphatic, " _What?"_

"Maybe its different for turians, is all. We have casual sex, but it's always as a result of mutual respect or trust."

"I've been told it's different for most humans as well. Or at least, so all my friends who are 'in love' tell me. Doubt I'll ever have reason to find out myself." She laughed as if the idea of her being lovey-dovey was the most hilarious joke she ever told.

"So let me get this straight: You screw for fun and don't believe in love." Still staring at the work at hand, I went on sarcastically, "Are you sure you're not actually a guy, Shepard?"

"Aww, how cute… the big, bad turian's a romantic." Her teasing tone of mockery irritated me on some level. I growled, more than a little perturbed.

"No, I just find it annoying that someone so young has already given up on life and love." _I haven't._

She considered me for a moment, emotions flickering over her face too quickly to decipher save one: fear. The last one registered quite well. I turned back to the object I was working on as I asked quietly, "What are you afraid of, little Spectre?"

She looked as if she would answer, but as she opened her mouth a familiar sardonic voice interrupted.

"Commander, if you two are _finished_ down there, we've got an incoming message from the Alliance." Joker's mocking tone implied much more was happening than actually was, and I reflected that we _really_ needed to stop ending up alone like this. It was _not_ good for crew morale. Fun for the gossipy types, but not for the rest. Or me.

As she started towards the elevator, Ashley called out, "Hey Vakarian, tell Shepard I already called dibs on kissing turians." At her words, Teandra placed her palm over her face, increasing her pace as she moved towards the elevator.

Nope, not good for my morale at all.

* * *

"I get cold easily. You know this. Stop fiddling with the _freaking_ controls." I smacked her hand away, manipulating the knob for a second before she smacked me back.

" _You_ stop. Its eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit on this planet, and we're all in full armor. The AC is a requirement, not an option."

"I thought you Alliance types were all unflappable. Can't hack a little heat?"

The Chief piped up at that comment, "And I thought you turians were all badasses. You sound like some damn whiny chick with your whole 'ooh, I'm cold' bit." Ashley had a look of wry sarcasm on her face, but instead of responding, I used the heavy cannon to eliminate the mercenaries outside the building we had just come upon. This earned a snort from her, followed by a full on laugh at my response of, "Badasses can be warm-natured too, dammit."

Shepard interrupted us as she parked the MAKO. "Here we go, people. These guys killed Admiral Kahoku, and ran all those sick ass experiments. Shoot to kill." She flipped the safety on her pistol, showing exactly how serious she was about that statement. Ashley and I followed suit, unassing the MAKO in her shadow and following her through the doorway.

Working with Ashley was different from working with any of our other teammates. The familiar hammering of Wrex's shotgun or the continual biotic glow of Liara's shields were conspicuously missing as we worked our way through the mercenaries guarding the base. Her skill with each weapon was always remarkable to witness, and she gave equal loving attention to each one during the ensuing fight. Her quick responses to every command, and even quicker shots, were refreshing in contrast to the rest of the specialists.

Liara was quiet and reserved, even when using her biotics to annihilate you. Wrex was all about taunting you as he blasted you away. Tali was always way too focused to play when it came to gunfire. Kaidan was, well, Kaidan: scared of what he could do and always holding back, both emotionally and bioticly. It was this trait, if he wasn't careful, that would cost him Teandra. I didn't believe the ration of crap she'd spouted about not believing in love, but I did believe that she would never give her heart to someone who offered anything less than _everything_.

My attention returned to the battle as I fired one last shot from my Volkov, taking down a sniper who _obviously_ didn't know who he was dealing with. We checked the containers around the room for supplies and then moved on. Coming to a t-junction, we found the door to our left blocked, so moved right instead. Shepard reached to press the door button with the barrel of her rifle, worried about what we would find.

Little did we know that was when everything would go to hell.

The scene unfolded like a badly-written movie, but this was real life, _Shepard's_ life. We walked in on a heavily armored man holding a gun fully extended from his body, aimed at a second unarmed human in a lab coat, most likely the scientist we had been sent to rescue. I saw the soldier's trigger finger move minutely, as if he was physically stopping himself from killing the man, as he said, "Stay back. I've got no grief with you. All I want is this bastard."

The 'bastard' in question had a Cerberus logo emblazoned on the side of his coat, which after our recent missions involving the corporation made me wonder why Teandra hadn't already shot him. He was panicked, almost in tears, as he said, "Please! He's a madman." His eyes never left the mercenary as he went on, "Mr. Toombs, you're insane. You need help."

The man's response was instantaneous, pistol shaking slightly as he said, " _Shut up!_ You don't get to lie. You don't… Shepard?" His eyes moved away from his target, focusing fully on our little group for the first time since we had entered it. "My god, Shepard? Is that you?"

At the man's distraction, I saw the scientist jerk his hand towards his hip as he watched us. I caught his eye, shaking my head slightly as I hefted my rifle. I gave him a look that said clearly _I wouldn't try it, buddy_. He apparently got the message. _Fucking Cerberus. Any enemy of theirs is, at least, a temporary ally of mine._

My attention moved to Commander Shepard, however, as she said in a tone I had _never_ heard from her, "Corporal Toombs? But… I saw you die on Akuze. How did you get here?" There was anger, despair, hurt, sadness… the sounds her voice was portraying ran the gamut of human negative emotion. It hurt me already to hear it, and she'd only muttered three sentences.

"They took me, Shepard. The scientists." His eyes darted back and forth from us to his victim, though his stance remained firm even as he began to describe the the horrors he had endured. "They were running tests on the thresher maws. They _let_ those things hit us just so they could study them. Were even more delighted when they found out I survived." He sneered at the scientist maniacally, a sure indication of his unraveling sanity, "It gave them someone to run tests on."

"Toombs… I didn't see anybody. If I had, I'd have come back for you, I swear." She was pleading, almost begging him to understand the guilt she felt at leaving a man behind. "Semper Fi" was still very much her way of thinking now, and I could only imagine how much more important it would have been to her then. _Only imagine_.

"You can't believe Toombs! He doesn't have any proof! I demand a fair trial." Given the stupidity of that statement, the man must not have realized exactly how close I was to ending his life right there, rambling on as he was. I decided to remedy that.

"Shepard was at Akuze. That's all the proof she needs," I informed him. I saw the man's face fall, and I moved Kovalyov up to sight through the ACOG. All I needed was the damn order, and I'd take the shot. One word, and his life was forfeit. He'd been someone directly responsible for some of the trauma Teandra was suffering, for the death of thirty of so soldiers. That sort of behavior, no matter what species you were, reserved you a special place with the spirits. _The spirit of latrines. Or maybe waste pits. That's what you became when you committed armed forces genocide._

"Shut up. Just keep your drivel to yourself." Shepard was angry now, neck muscles tensed as she considered the situation. Her pistol moved towards the scientist, finger twitching of its own accord in the nervous tic she had on the rare occasion when she doubted her own thoughts. As if reading her indecision, Toombs went on, "This man deserves to die, Shepard. For you, for me, for everyone else in the unit. _Are you with me?_ " She spent one more moment in contemplation, glancing at Ashley and me with our rifles already on the scientist, proving what we thought of his excuses. She took a deep breath, holding to calm herself before saying, "You're better than this, Toombs. You're not like them."

"Don't tell me who I am. You got away with a few scratches and a scary reputation!" His voice was venomous, each word causing her to flinch as if struck, "The rest of the unit died, and I was tortured for years, Shepard. You can't judge me. **You don't have the right."** The last statement was almost at shouting level, reverberations echoing off the walls of the small room as if to assault the Commander over and over with their accusations. She replied somewhat defensively, but still with more than a small measure of sorrow, "Toombs, if I could have helped you on Akuze, I would have. All I can do is help now. Let me."

I sighed. She was going to do the moral thing, wasn't she? Everyone was going to get talked out of shooting, sing some happy song together, then go about their merry way. How could she possibly let that man go, knowing what he'd done to her life, to her sanity? How could she live with herself knowing she'd let a butcher go free? Much as it pained me to admit it, though, it was her decision. Her vengeance.

But her logic seemed to reach the Corporal, if no one else. "I'm no murderer. They couldn't make me one. Just as long as he goes to trial. Maybe the screaming will stop now. I don't know."

It never stopped. I knew this, and Shepard knew this, but she shot me a warning look before she responding. She lied so smoothly I'd never have known otherwise, "Those bastards can't hurt you anymore. It's over."

She went on, lightly touching her comm, "Joker, tell Fifth Fleet we need a ship for pickup."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

Then she roughly pushed the scientist to the floor, holding both wrists behind his back as she ground a knee into the backs of his. Holding her hand in my direction, she said, "Front left chest compartment of your armor. Your cuffs. Hand them over."

"How did you...?"

"We'll discuss it later, and I'll make sure you get them back. _Now Vakarian."_ I was starting to recognize that empty voice now, the inflection that indicated it was her often concealed darker personality. I handed over the object in question, realizing I even had a name for that side of her now. This was the Red Widow, a persona she had developed to survive her time with Finch with her sanity intact. A necessary evil that now tried to insinuate itself into her everyday life incessantly, despite Teandra's strong moral compass.

She applied the cuffs with little gentleness, but wasn't as brutal as I had been on several occasions myself. Professional, as if she had experience in using them. It made me wonder…

_That train of thought will get you nowhere. Keep you head in the game, and off her assassinations._

Toombs simply stood there, muttering to himself as Ashley pulled the gun from his hand. Would he ever become the man he'd once been again? Only the Spirits knew the answer, and it seemed they didn't feel like sharing.

* * *

She paced up and down the meeting room, hand gripping her switchblade as she reflexively pressed the button, continually exposing then hiding the blade.

"How fucking DARE they?"

 _Snick,_ said the switchblade, egging her on.

"I swear to god," _S_ _nick._

"I don't care what the fuck it takes," _Snick._ Could a blade make itself sound more insistent? Cause hers just had.

"Cerberus is going down." _S_ _nick._

"The **entire damn disaster** " _S_ _nick._

"could have been avoided," _Snick._

"but they wanted to ' _experiment'_." _Snick._ I swear that weapon just pulled out airquotes.

This tirade had been going on for nearly half an hour, and the blade in her hands was beginning to make me more than a _little_ nervous. It was glinting against the light evilly, and I felt it was time to include some of my own thoughts before it did again.

"So why didn't you kill him? The scientist, I mean."

She rounded on me, blade sheathed, thank the Spirits, "And what good would that have done Toombs? What would it have solved? Trust me, that fucking Cerberus lab rat has no clue how close he came to having a hole in his head every time he insulted my intelligence with his crap."

The whoosh of the door signaled we were no longer alone. I turned to face whatever new obstacle was heading our way, but as my eyes fell on Alenko, I tensed with dread. I knew both why he was there, and that the outcome of the situation couldn't be a good one.

"Am I late?" He thought we were sparring, and that she had avoided telling him to get out of their match. _She'll kill him in her current mood,_ I thought. Teandra might hold back, but I was catching glimpses of the Widow throughout our conversation, and even _I_ was wary of that bitch.

"Kaidan, I don't think…" I started to warn the man off, but Shepard spoke over me.

"You want to test yourself, Alenko? Fine. Get your ass on the mat."

_Damn, she wasn't going to let this go, was she?_

It was obvious this wasn't the reception he was expecting, his face showing momentary hurt before he dropped his things at the side of the room. I had to respect his attempt to get to know the girl better, as I had suggested, but this wasn't the woman he flirted with. And she was currently looking at him like he was her quarry, some sort of game animal, rather than a person.

I moved forward, removing Kaidan from her sight with the bulk of my body and forcing her gaze to move to me. That part of her in control now viewed me, at least, as an equal of sorts. Maybe I could get it to behave.

"You want to do this? Fine, I won't stop you. But your _going_ to give up you weapons and fight fair."

Glowering at me, she slapped her switchblade into the palm of my talon, pushing forward as if to move around me. I blocked her with my arm.

"Shepard…" I warned, "I meant _all_ your weapons."

She sighed, and I watched as she conjured up two stilettos to add to my collection. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes, causing her to grin as an intricate butterfly knife appeared from spirits knew where. A sharp intake of breath at the display came from behind me, and I turned to see apprehension and admiration war for control of Kaidan's face.

"You know, on second thought…"

Shepard laughed. An animalistic sound full of contempt, so unlike the usual high and clear tone she produced when amused. If I hadn't realized it before, I knew now that there was _no way_ I was letting her near the biotic today. Turning back to face her once again, I said, "Commander? Not happening. Not a chance."

She didn't respond, and I grabbed her chin, a motion that caused her to flinch. She looked at me, eyes seeming to refocus after a second, saying, "Shit, Garrus… I was gone again, wasn't I?"

I nodded silently, causing her to place her palms over her face to cover her self-disgust.

"What did you do to her, Vakarian? Did you hurt her?" A blue haze was starting to crackle at his fingertips as I rounded on the man whose life I had probably just saved, my own temper finally snapping.

"You want a shot at me, Kaidan? Well, here's your chance. She's not in any condition to spar." I crouched, prepared for whatever assault he might let loose.

He glanced at Shepard warily, earning a response of, "Hey, _you_ threatened the hunter, not me…" The look of wry amusement on her face was a complete opposite of the shame that had permeated it a moment before. Encouraged by her recovery, I looked back to Alenko just in time to brace myself for the biotic blast that threw me backwards into one of the chairs.

_By the Damn Spirits, you have got to be kidding me…_

"Gee, Shepard, and I thought only _you_ cheated at this." I regained my feet, dodging left instantly as another blast fired towards me. I charged, head down, only to be rewarded by losing my hold on the ground as he hit me with his lift attack.

 _Stupid, Vakarian. Real stupid. He's not Shepard. Pull out some tactics, here._ I pushed off the ceiling, not quite getting to the floor before the effects of the power wore off, causing me to fall with a thump. Kaidan used my distraction to deliver a hit in my direction. And while I recovered in time to dodge, he still managed to deliver a quite powerful punch to my arm.

"You know, the last turian that tangled with me over mistreating a woman ended up dead, Vakarian. And I was only seventeen at the time." For the first time in our short acquaintance, the small human was acting like an actual mate instead of wounded pyjak.

 _That's what this is all about? Some half-assed attempt at defending Shepard's honor?_ She sure as hell didn't need anyone to protect her. Focusing on my omni-tool, I prompted the damping program to activate. As he lifted his hand for another throw attack, the blue light fizzled out. That meant I had three seconds to take him down.

I moved forward, putting him within a hold while his biotics were suppressed. Now they would be useless, since they would affect him as well. Stripped of his abilities, he opted for brute strength, a tactic which would have worked against a human opponent. But just as I'd never tangled with a biotic, he'd never grappled with a turian. Still maintaining my grasp, I attempted to push him to the floor with the weight of my body, getting him halfway down before the lower center of gravity gave him better stability. We stayed this way for several seconds, locked in angry combat, before a new voice interrupted our exertions.

"Damn, Shepard. If I'd known that your sparring matches were all about two sweaty men rolling around together, I'd have worn my tin-foil miniskirt and thigh high boots." Ashley had entered unannounced, her state of dress making it obvious she'd been invited as a fourth for the sparring match.

Shepard fell to the floor laughing. Literally. Kaidan looked back at me, both of us considering the way I had him pinned on his knees in front of me... then we fell apart faster than a Hahne-Kedar rifle, me glaring at Ashley all the while.

Kaidan beat a hasty retreat with all the dignity he could muster, blushing furiously all the while.

I managed to recovered a bit of my sarcasm, though, and instead of running quipped, "What, you jealous, Ash?  Am I not your type?"

"Aww, Plate-Face, did I hurt your feelings? Here, let me make it all better." Ashley walked over and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, causing _me_ to jump and Teandra to howl with laughter all the more.

"There. I've proved I'm not a xeno. Now can we get on with the damn mission, Commander?"

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

 


	18. Hunting

**Chapter 18 – Hunting**

"Come on! The show is the spitting image of our life. How was I _not_ going to make comparisons?"

Lunch in the galley was more crowded than usual, causing more than a few rolled eyes at the verbal ping-pong match Shepard and I had been having. Wrex was off in the corner of one table, appearing to be deliberately ignoring the proceedings. This was disproved by the occasional laugh from his direction, much as the imperturbable krogan tried to hide it. Across from him sat Adams, head down in conversation with Tali regarding the latest advancement in FTL drives that had been published on the extranet. "Our own engine is already ahead of that technology," the quarian stated, "I did not realize the project had been so successful at keeping its progress a secret."

Liara, Ashley, and Kaidan were still engrossed in a conversation that had been going on all morning about the differences in music and the culture that surrounds it. The asari was having a hard time containing her disbelief at the range of human musical preferences.

_"What is that?" Liara asks an incredibly amused Teandra, the redhead bent over her omnitool to focus on her music collection._

_"Ah, that's Paramore._ Very _old favorite. They wrote the greatest anti-love songs." She taps the omnitool again and looks up mischievously as another song begins, a band with an intense_ golah _beat playing in the background. "And this is Otep."_

 _A look of pain crosses Liara's face as she says, "That_ noise _is considered music?"_

_Ashley laughs as she chimes in, "One day I'll have to introduce you to Metallica."_

And not too far from the others at the opposite end of the table, there we sat, the two of us, debating as we often did. This time, over the recasting of the famous human television show.

"You didn't argue about Tali being Kaylee…" I went on, waving one hand emphatically at the quarian.

"And she's going to shoot you if you call her that one more time." Teandra leaned back and laced her fingers behind her head with an amused expression on her face.

Flaring my mandibles in a grin, I said in a teasing tone, "She'd have to stop flirting with Adams first." The quarian didn't respond, so she was either an excellent actress or hadn't heard me. My vote was on the former.

"And we agreed that Ash is kinda like Zoe, though not nearly as badass." The woman in question managed to convey her opinion of the Commander's commentary without even pausing in her defense of the music Liara dispised. The gesture, which Eddie Lang had referred to as 'the one finger salute', was one I had seen many times in the break room at C-Sec. While the term sounded as if it would be a gesture of respect, I was pretty sure in this case it meant, 'Kiss my ass, Shepard.'

"But you are soooo not Jayne, Garrus. Wrex is Jayne."

"I'm the most kickass person on the ship. Pretty sure that means I win."

With a smirk that made it _very_ clear how she thought things would play out, she replied, "Well, you can wrestle the krogan. If you make it out unscathed, _then_ you win."

It only took a moment's thought to determine there was no good end to that scenario. So crossing my arms, I said, "Fine. Then I'm Mal."

"No, I'm Mal. _I'm_ the Captain." She crossed her own arms in return, one eyebrow quirked and food momentarily forgotten.

"Yeah, a Captain who's way too nice to be that sort of renegade."

The continuing discussion on music to the left was interrupted long enough for Ashley to chime in, "C'mon. You saying Shepard wouldn't take a bullet for any one of us, plate-face? Cause that's what Mal would do. His shipmates were more important than anything else to him, and he was very determined to protect them at all costs." She snickered, then continued, "Besides, you're telling me she wouldn't throw Jayne out an airlock for betrayal? That's _also_  totally something the Commander would do."

Grinning at the unexpected support, Teandra said, "Well, I say you're Doc."

I hesitated a second, then quipped, "Guess that makes you River, since I'm always taking care of you." There were chortles at this, and a collection of heads shaking around the table. Her only response was to smile slowly, her own reply formulating. Not giving her a chance to speak, I continued, "Besides, I thought we agreed Mister 'All-About-The-Rules' Alenko was Doc." _Let's see how the kid handles this._

"Uh, sitting right here…" came Kaidan's grumbled response from Shepard's right, drawing another laugh from the others. "Not that being called Doc is an insult or anything, but I just don't understand _why_ you insist on comparing us all to fictional characters."

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Shepard said, "Forget it. You're too preachy to be Doc. You're Book."

"Are you sure _you_ wouldn't be Book, _Shepard_?" The emphasis on the last word was almost unnecessary to experts in snark like myself and Teandra, but it was an excellent effort on Kaidan's part.  

The chorus of muffled, but amused snorts from around the table spawned a glare from Shepard that could drop a thresher maw at three clicks. A grin was Alenko's only response as he resumed eating his lunch, never taking his eyes off the Commander's face.

_Way to go Alenko. Meet her blow for blow and you just might stand a chance._

"Commander," came the familiar sardonic voice of our pilot, "much as I would rather watch you make him squirm, I figured I'd save Kaidan's pride and let you know we're approaching those coordinates you gave me."

"Shut up, Wash…" Alenko yelled in the direction of the loudspeaker. Liara looked around in confusion, having missed most of the show's replaying while holed up in the sickbay. The rest of us, however, gave a roar of laughter at the continuing joke.

Teandra turned and favored him with a smile, one that lit up her whole face in a way I'd barely seen her give anyone. Except me of course. The sight caused a momentary clenching somewhere in my gut. I glanced down at the synthesizer's latest production. I then got up and moved to discard the remains, which were obviously causing the discomfort. _Have to remember to calibrate that later._

Wanting to distract myself from the stomach pain, I asked, "What great adventure do you have planned for us today, Shepard?" as I moved towards the kitchen area.

"Oh, nothing huge. Just fulfilling a promise to a friend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Someone gave me a transponder frequency earlier this week and we should be getting pretty close to it. . ."

As she trailed off I turned, plate long forgotten in the span of a few seconds.

"Saleon…"

"We can only hope that bastard's here." Her eyes narrowed in anger, making it clear my story was still fresh in her mind. She stood, moving in the direction of her cabin with determined steps. "Garrus. Liara. Suit up and be ready in ten."

 _You can count on it,_ I thought, momentarily overcome with happiness, and a touch of nervousness. She'd taken me at my word. She was giving me a second chance to go after that slippery piece of varren shit. Had there been any question of it before, at that moment I knew without a doubt I would follow her orders to the ends of the universe and back. That level of faith, in spite of our short acquaintance, no matter how close of friends we'd become… it was damn near overwhelming. Not something I was used to on a professional level by any means. Or a personal level, either, if I really thought about it.

How had my partner Shelaya always put it? _Come hell or high water._ Yes, that was the phrase. Well, come hell or high water, Shepard had my loyalty. From that moment forward.

 

* * *

"You're quiet."

I glanced up at the concern in her voice, wondering what had brought it on. The shuttle ride to the _MSV Fedele_ was a short one, the silence thick in the cabin. I don't know why I was worried. I knew my intel on Saleon was good, and that there was no way he would get past the Commander, but…

It was just that this case had stunk since day fucking one. It had been one of my most disturbing cases, and one of the most frustrating. What had started as a simple smuggling case, standard fare in those days, had quickly become much more sinister. Saleon, perhaps because of the nature of his escape, represented every criminal that ever got away. Every scumbag that wormed his way out of his cell with lawyers and credits. My conscience demanded his demise, and I couldn't risk him getting away again. Just couldn't contemplate him finding more victims to torture, adding to the blood on my hands.

It had also been a field lesson in red tape, and in learning how to circumvent it when necessary. And when several of the suspects I had "interrogated" had attempted to file charges on me, they were quietly taken aside and assured that my father was too highly thought of for any damage to my name to be allowed. _That_ might reflect badly on him. On some level, I hated that, hated _him_ for not allowing me to make my own mistakes and learn from them. I was long past childhood, and his protection galled me more than I cared to admit.

The shuttle docked with a small bump, the huff of the vent breaking me from my reverie as the seals clamped down to stabilize us. The door opened, and we were hit with the stale smell of unmoving air. The life-support systems were on, but only just.

"Am I the only one whose spidey sense is tingling?" Shepard asked.

Liara and I both just stared at her.

"What? Oh, never mind… I just feel like we're not alone, that's all."

The asari and I shared a brief moment of exasperation at Teandra's endless store of outdated human idioms, before readying biotics and rifle, respectively. Strange as her phrasing could be, her intuition was rarely wrong when it came to this sort of thing. Teandra activated the doorway on the other side of the room, the quiet _whoosh_ the only sound as we moved forward.

An electric blue glow caught my attention immediately. _What could that be?_ I expected Saleon, maybe a few of his test subjects…

A guttural roar sounded to the right, issuing from a husk that had spotted us. _By the Spirits, what did he do to them?_ Were these the remnants of his employees? Or some new batch of poor souls drawn by his promises of free medicine and compensation? Either way this was a travesty, and confirmation of the rightness of our mission.

"Guess secrecy's out of the question."

The electric whine of Shepard's pistol signaled her first shot, "God, I hate these things. It's like Left 4 Dead gone sooo wrong…"

"Shepard, please, trying to kill things here." I proved my point by dropping a new target.

"Well, aren't you just a little ray of cheeriness today." This comment was punctuated with a shot to the nearest creature's groin.

The battle only took a few minutes, winding our way through the maze of crates and putting the things out of their misery. I couldn't focus very well on the task though. It was lucky for me my body was working of its own accord, freeing up my mind to consider the challenge ahead.

Assuming Saleon was here, would Shepard have enough faith in me to disbelieve his wily words? The man had always been able to talk his way out of anything. That had been his safeguard against discovery for so long, his speeches a mask held firmly in place to conceal the monster within. Could he convince her he was innocent? That was assuming he was even still alive, much less here. I stopped that line of thought cold, refusing to even consider that he'd beaten me to the punch yet again. Shepard was no fool. She wouldn't have brought us here if she thought he'd moved on.

Moving out of the large area, we reached a door on the other side of the room. Unsure what we would find, we trained our weapons on the entry. Shepard hit the button, revealing an empty hallway with two doors. Liara took point as we readied once again, but as the door opened I almost cursed at the empty space. We quickly salvaged the random junk and moved back into the hallway towards the last entrance.

Motioning for me to open the final door so her pistol could stay at the ready, I hesitated with the intent of arguing. I wanted to be the one to take the shot if needed, and Liara was completely capable of pressing a button. A moment's thought made me reconsider, remembering the last time I had questioned her orders. I overrode the lock. The action revealed a single salarian, whose face was unmistakable. My rifle snapped up almost of its own accord as my conscious mind barely registered Teandra's shaking head behind me. She wanted me to wait, but I was determined to take the shot at the first opportunity.

"Thank you! Thank you for saving me from those things!" His cowardly voice interrupted our silent argument. The so-called doctor wore a labcoat of pure white, marred with multi-colored bloodstains like so much paint on a child's smock, making it very obvious that he was still experimenting. It appeared that he hadn't showered or slept in days. Not that salarians tended to need much sleep, but the sluggishness of his movements was a stark contrast to the frantic motion he'd always exemplified in his lab while I questioned him. Even his skin pigmentation was off slightly, a badly done color alteration that I could only assume was an attempt to remain off the grid.

But for all the differences, there was no forgetting that face.

"Commander," the formal address caught her attention, "That's him. That's Doctor Saleon." His gaze snapped from Shepard to me, recognition briefly touching his eyes before he replaced it with an expression of panic.

"What? My name is Heart. Doctor Heart. Please! Get me out of here." This last plea was aimed somewhere between Liara and Shepard, as he knew full well he'd get no sympathy from me. All she said was, "Are you sure it's him?" Her eyes, and her pistol, never left the target as she spoke.

"Positive." I turned to face him, letting every ounce of hatred and sarcasm I felt seep into my voice as I continued, "There's no escape this time, Doctor. I'd harvest your organs first, but we don't have the time." I raised my rifle once again, not really awaiting her order so much as making sure she didn't plan on interfering.

"You're crazy," he spat at me. "He's crazy," he reiterated to Shepard, "Please don't let him do this to me."

She hesitated, arm drooping slightly as she contemplated the situation before her. She said not a word, but I already knew. She was thinking of Toombs. How she'd allowed the scientist to live. Wondering if she'd made the right decision then… and if she should repeat it now.

"We'll take him in. Drop him off with the military."

"But we have him. We can't let him get away. Not again." My voice was resigned even if I, myself, was not. Yet I still had to state my opinion. Shepard's reasoning when she spoke shocked me, though.

"If he dies, we'll never know what he's been up to. We'll take him, interrogate him, and he'll serve his time."

"I've… okay. You're right, Shepard." I glared at Saleon, my brain not yet processing the outcome of the situation beyond allowing me to utter, "You're a very lucky salarian. You owe the Commander your life."

"Oh, thank you _so_ very much." In one smooth motion that treacherous asshole drew a small pistol from behind his back, but never even got his finger firmly on the trigger before his head disintegrated. I reeled back in shock, the whole scene happening so fast it took me a moment to register what had taken place. After all the examples, the _speeches_ , she had taken a single step forward and shot him herself. She hadn't even given Liara or me a chance to move, the biotic's glow fizzling out as she released the energy.

"And so he dies anyway. What was the point in that?" I wasn't even angry, though I knew that might possibly come later, just annoyed. Putting my rifle away with clipped motions, I was unable to contain my irritation as I stared at the back of Teandra's head.

The face she turned to me was determined and more than a little sad, blue eyes staring into my own intently as she spoke.

"You can't predict how people will act, Garrus. But you _can_ control how you'll respond." I could imagine memories of Finch working their way through her brain, "In the end, that's what really matters."

How could I rebuke her, when the pain of her own life so obviously tempered her decisions? Of all the things she was, selfish was something she could never be. Every decision was weighed against the moral compass of her own experiences before she passed judgment. I only hoped that one day I would have half her wisdom.

"Yeah… I don't think I've ever met someone quite like you, Commander." She exhaled, gaze never wavering, studying me more intently than I'd ever seen before. "Guess we're done here."

We cleared out Saleon's medical equipment and supplies, noting it was stained with the blood of many species. Pale blue, violet, orange, more than a few dark red; none of it gave Teandra pause as she efficiently stripped everything and moved towards the door. And why should it? After all, for good or ill, his work was finished here.

* * *

"You know why she did it, don't you?" the asari's calm voice broke through my concentration.

Our return to the _Normandy_ had been in silence. Not angry silence, just weary. Liara had almost seemed uncomfortable with the lack of banter. _Guess we're growing on her,_ was my idle thought. But once we were through the airlock, I had quietly said good evening to Teandra and made my way to the Mako.

How did I feel about the whole situation? Even I wasn't sure. Annoyed? Certainly. Angry? Perhaps. Perturbed? Definitely. One thing about Shepard was her ability to flip your way of thinking, to make you see things from a different perspective. She wasn't infallible; was far from perfect. Yet it was obvious that even among her own kind her personality was unusual. Her calm acceptance of even the most shocking of phrases tended to pacify even the most quick tempered of us. Despite her own shortcomings, and the differences between herself and her crew, she had managed to make a change to each of our lives. She'd brought Alenko and Liara out of their shells, had convinced Ashley to curb her prejudices. She'd used Tali to show the rest of the crew how similar we all were, and given Tali a chance to be seen as an equal. She'd even done a favor for Wrex, gaining his trust over a set or family armor.

And me? What had she done to me? She had taken a world of black and white and shown me the gray area in between, obvious yet eternally overlooked.

A slim hand on my shoulder caused me to turn, facing the deceptively young-looking alien.

"She did it for you, not for him. If she had allowed you to shoot him, it would have been telling you it was okay to play judge, jury, and executioner. Shepard cares too much, for all of us, to lead any one of us astray in that way." She turned and moved away without awaiting a response, my anger dissipating as she disappeared into the elevator.

What had Saleon been to me? Revenge, pure and simple; a slippery road at best. In contrast, Shepard's respect meant more. Infinitely more.

The sacrifice, such as it was, was worth it.


	19. The Subtle Art of Murder

**Chapter 19- The Subtle Art of Murder**

"So we are going to babysit a lovesick turian general?" Tali asked incredulously, "You cannot be serious."

"Hey, credits are credits. And I want everyone to get some better equipment before we hit Virmire. If Feros and Noveria were any indication, that's a requirement, _not_ an option," Teandra responded.

"Besides, I think Sha'ira was sweet on you, Shepard. Play that up a bit and maybe you could finance the whole mission." I said, mandibles flaring in a grin.

"By the Spirits, don't remind me. First Liara, now this. Either I'm putting off an 'I'm into aliens' vibe, or I forgot I'm wearing my 'Chicks dig me' t-shirt." The look of exasperation on her face was comical, but not nearly as funny as her using the turian curse.

"Technically, asari are not women, Shepard…" Tali started to say.

"And _technically_ I'm supposed to be some big damn hero because the council decrees it, but we all know where the lines are drawn. Asari have boobs, toenail polish, and everything in between. Including the belly button. They're girls as far as I'm concerned."

"As well as three-quarters of the rest of the galaxy," I commented, somewhat amused by the byplay. She glared at me.

"You keep your eyes off the dancers and on the mission, Vakarian." There was a hint of a smile under the frown, but only a small one. I nodded with a laugh to myself. Asari weren't really my thing. Any more than humans were, for that matter, and for much the same reasons Shepard had just mentioned. To top it off, interspecies mating was not something you just jumped into, and turians had the hardest time crossing that barrier outside of quarians. The differences in physiology just made it complicated on so many levels. Complications never made for an easy relationship, and easy was all I'd ever had time for at C-Sec.

"I notice you're not telling Tali to keep her eyes to herself, considering how much she gushed about the dancers last time we were here." Exactly how I was able to discern her annoyance through the layers of suit I'm not sure, but it was readily apparent and quite gratifying.

Teandra opened her mouth, momentarily flustered, as we finished making our way through the deserted back alley. I watched her face as we moved, slowly savoring the look before she gathered herself to reply. That reply never came.

As we moved down the stairs, her face froze upon hearing a single sentence.

"Teandra, my girl, there you are." The man stepped away from the wall, detaching from a shadow. "They told me it was you, but I didn't believe it. All grown up and turned into a soldier." His dark hair and face were jovial, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes. He held himself like one of the predatorial _lishka_ of Palaven, legs moving lithely with almost no trace of effort. Something about him set off my investigator's alarm bells, though, and I wondered if Shepard really knew him.

Turning to ask her, I noticed her hand twitch, her expression becoming unreadable as she looked at the man in front of us. Almost as if of its own accord, her head ducked to hide her face. Then, she squared her shoulders as if angry with herself and responded, glare hot and voice icy.

"Finch, how have you been?"

My protective instinct flared up, fueled by the memories of Teandra's tearstained face as she spoke the soft words, _I was_ _his student and his plaything..._ **This** was Finch? This insignificant looking human, who appeared no more equipped to defend himself than a drunk volus, was the man who had tormented her so relentlessly? I started to move towards him, intent on destroying him, only to be stopped by a small hand on my chestplate.

"No, Garrus." Her hand trembled slightly, but her voice revealed none of her fear.

_Fear…_

For the first time since I'd come to know her, Teandra Shepard was inexplicably, overwhelmingly, completely _afraid._

It was apparent in the way her body lost several inches of height as her shoulders slumped in shame, in the tensing of her neck muscles as if to ward off some anticipated blow. If I hadn't known her as well as I did, I might not have noticed.

But I _did_ know her that well. And if my short acquaintance with her made me aware of it, then without a doubt her master of six years would have recognized it as well.

He crossed his arms but didn't answer the formality. Obviously unnerved by his silence, she stumbled on, "What do you want?" The Teandra I knew would have made this an order, put a fierceness into the words that would have brooked no argument with the question. However, the way it was said now was reminiscent of a child to her overbearing father: Quiet. Demure. Afraid of the consequences of such a defiant statement. It was such a strong contrast to her usual personality that I found myself feeling even more protective of my little Spectre than I had ever been.

"I can't just be here to visit an old… _friend_?" The final word was laced with sensuality and power, said in a voice that is completely sure of the hold one held over another. Even had I not been aware of their history, not known the atrocities he'd put her through, I would have been aware of the ownership he felt towards her by the way he spoke that final word. It sickened me.

It also seemed to strengthen _her_ somewhat, because she crossed her arms and stared at him, managing to hide the Widow's derisive sneer under a façade of humiliation and obedience. The target of this look copied the sneer, added a dash of arrogance, then went on, "Fine. I need a favor. For old times' sake."

"And what, exactly, could you possibly need from me?" Her voice was coated with hostility, and the man in front of her narrowed his eyes in a silent warning that made it plain he didn't care for the tone. Tali glanced at me from behind Shepard, and I made a subtle stopping motion with my hand, warning her to wait. The quarian nodded hesitantly, unsure of what to make of the confrontation. This was Shepard's battle, her fight. It was not our place to step in, regardless of what happened, until she'd had her say.

"You remember an old buddy of ours, Curt Weisman, don't you?" She recoiled minutely at the name before remembering herself, so I figured she did. He leered sadistically, "I thought you probably would. He was arrested while in turian space for some minor infraction, something to do with red sand. He's on his way here for trial, and I want you to pull some strings to get him released for me."

"And if I say no?" She clenched her fists at her sides in a juvenile show of insolence, and for a moment I could almost picture her as she would have been at sixteen. I could almost see the battered adolescent girl who'd ran away from the only life she'd ever known, hoping that there was _anything_ better than what she had. I refocused on Finch, trying to detect the cannibal underneath the benign exterior.

The resounding crack that followed Teandra's statement was hard to place, so intently had I been staring at the bastard before us. I turned to ask Shepard what it was, only to witness a palm shaped red mark blossom on her face. I started to reach a talon towards her cheek disbelievingly, completely unnerved by what I saw.

He'd hit her? Part of me was enraged at the action, but another part of me was in shock at the speed with which he had moved. I'd been looking _right at him_ and hadn't seen the motion. His facial expression hadn't even changed throughout the act, still displaying a combination of condescension and amusement.

I watched as a war waged within Shepard, the Commander trying to wrest control from the defenseless little Teandra. Thankfully, the woman she was, not the child she used to be, won out. She pulled her Karpov, extending her arm fully and aiming down the sight with a blank look on her face.

"Here's the deal. I get that thieving, murdering asshole out; you disappear from my life again. Permanently. Take it or leave it." Her mask slipped, showing her loathing and hatred much more clearly than she probably had intended as she spoke. The message was loud and clear, however, and I gaped at her in complete shock.

She was making a _deal_ with him? She _had_ to be joking. Why wasn't she arresting him? That's what she'd done to the Cerberus scientist, and to Saleon. She'd let that woman trying to take over the illegal slave rings go, but _she_ had technically committed no crime at that point. Finch was guilty of at least simple assault, and that was discounting the difficult-to-prove crimes of Shepard's childhood. I couldn't believe she was just going to let him walk away, much less free some criminal from custody. The choices were too contrary to the core of who the woman was.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it may come down to me to kill him, a duty I was hesitant to execute immediately after the display I had just witnessed. Shepard was fast, but he was faster, and it was obvious in that fact that he was the man who had honed her fighting reflexes. I was barely at her level of skill, and who knew what other talents the man had yet to bring to bear? All I could do was keep myself prepared to take advantage of any opening, and pray to the Spirits I was ready. To act prematurely would be to sign all of our death warrants.

"Oh, I'll take it, my sweet Widow. I'll take it." His laughter echoed off the walls of the small corridor, as if amused by a toddler's mid-yawn declaration that they weren't sleepy. _Of course you are, silly… now off to bed with you._ It was a degrading sound, and it made me loathe him even more.

Now it was her turn to give him warning. She put pressure on her chosen messenger, the trigger of her pistol, as she said, "Don't call me that. I am no longer yours, nor am I the fucking Red Widow anymore."

He seemed unworried by the slug of metal threatening to destroy his brain matter. "Still lying to yourself, I see," he retorted.

The snick of the switchblade was clearly heard as the pistol dropped back to its holster, a sound I'd never been so glad or afraid to hear. She may have been a cold bitch, but at least the Widow wouldn't put up with this guy's _boskaverna._ Finch, on the other hand, seemed to remain oblivious to the threat he was under. That, or he was so sure his power over this woman that he knew she'd never harm him. I couldn't decide which was more disconcerting.

"Ah," he said with real interest, "I see you kept my little gift. And yet you claim to despise me."

Shoulders back and head held high, she scoffed, "It's a reminder of what I _never_ want to become, a constant companion to save me from myself. Your lessons forbade me the more flesh and blood kind, remember?"

"Lessons I would presume you had taken to heart, if I couldn't see your obvious affection for your companions. Look at how you keep them back, protecting them from _little old me!_ " He punctuated the statement with a laugh, gesturing nonchalantly in my direction as his eyes flicked to me, "Give them time. They'll turn their backs on you, betray you just like all the others. You are doomed to a life alone and unaided, my Teandra. And yet it's so adorable that you keep trying."

With each word she pulled farther within herself, her arms dropping to her side and face hidden once again by a sea of red. Finally unable to keep from interfering any longer, I put an arm around her waist and pulled her towards my left side. I might not be able to protect her mentally, but I'd be damned if he'd lay another hand on her.

"We're done here," was all I said.

I didn't actually see him move, only sensed a change in the air and reacted, catching his wrist as he attempted to strike me. Shock and rage flickered briefly across his face, and I stared at him, gaze unwavering until a voice interrupted our silent battle for dominance.

"Garrus, don't. Please." Her voice was pleading, but I didn't dare look down at her, since taking my eyes off our adversary would have been a fatal mistake. Enduring the insults that he had thrown at her was bad enough, but her dejected voice made my anger worse despite the words she was expressing. I knew men like Finch. Knew that unless he was dead, or so terrified of the consequences of harming her he wouldn't dare lay a hand on the woman, he would never leave her in peace. _That_ was how men like Finch operated, and with any luck, maybe I could arrange for one of them to apply before it was all over.

Finch retrieved his wrist with a snap, turning to walk away as he said, "All right then, you all go ahead and run along. There's a turian in Chora's Den that can arrange the prisoner's release. Just a little, bitty favor, and you'll be rid of me."

 _For now,_ I thought bitterly as I pulled Shepard towards the door. Tali followed with her shotgun drawn, keeping it pointed after the retreating man.

When we made it to the safety of the corridor, Teandra went and sat with her back to the nearest wall, eyes closed and hands shaking. In spite of that, her voice was almost back to normal as she spoke, "Give me a minute, and then we'll move on." It was obvious now that we were away from the man's piercing gaze that his hold was loosening, Teandra coming back to herself as the oily words of that _ferazah_ began to fade.

"Shepard! Who was that _bosh'tet_?" I stared at the quarian for a moment. I didn't think I'd ever heard her curse before. It didn't suit her personality, but I mirrored the sentiment behind it.

"A gang boss from Earth. Group called the Reds."

"Why would you be acquainted with a gang boss, Shepard?" she asked in disbelief.

"Look, I wasn't lucky enough to have a family and community to support me like you did, Tali. Humans, especially Earth-bred ones, are a self-centered and ruthless lot. The reason most of us don't get along with batarians is because we're too much alike for comfort, okay?" Her voice was desolate, as if the unspoken accusation of her friend were only proving Finch's words about her always being alone.

Tali looked at her for a second as if processing that, then asked, "And this Curt Weisman?"

"Same sort of scum as Finch, only more of a xeno. Not sure what they arrested him for, but I'm betting there's more to the story. He had his turn with me more than once, and 'sadistic' doesn't even begin to cover the stuff he enjoys." My mind refused to follow her statement for a moment, then it registered forcefully. _Finch wasn't the only one to terrorize her. By the damn Spirits, she'd been nothing more than a party favor for the gang to pass around._

I knelt so I could look at her, _really_ look at her. Eye to eye. "Shepard?"

She looked up, eyes meeting mine for a single moment, before she seemed to gain determination from my gaze. Getting up, she moved porposefully towards Chora's Den, and Tali and I hurried to catch up. Before long the music of the strip club reached our ears. We moved through the doorway, weaving around the patrons until we caught sight the man we were meant to approach, apparent by the air of authority about him.

"You the Officer in charge of keeping Curt Weisman locked up?" she asked without preface. The other male turned to look at her, red tribal paint reflecting the pulsing of the music.

"Who wants to know?" He eyed her warily, but with none of the instinctual distrust for humans that was usual. _A professional_ _. About damn time we met one of those._

"I'm Commander Shepard of the _Normandy_ …"

"The Spectre, right?"

She gave him a pained smile. "The same."

He relaxed a little more, asking, "What can I do for you?"

I stared at Shepard, awaiting her response with as much anticipation as the other turian. I don't know what I expected. Shepard would never let a criminal go, but Teandra was conditioned so deeply to listen to Finch, I wasn't sure she was herself.

She fiddled with her hair a moment, tucking it behind each ear. She drew a deep breath, expelled it slowly, and said "It's what I can do for you. Someone approached me, wanted me to use my Spectre status to free him. You should probably ratchet up security on him, since when they find out I refused they'll probably try to free him themselves."

"Why tell me?" He sounded genuinely perplexed, "We arrested him for a turian hate crime. He poisoned medical cargo meant for a turian colony to deal with a severe outbreak. It would have caused the deaths of millions, but it's hardly seems like something a human, even a Spectre, would waste her time on."

"Do I look like someone who appreciates alien bashing?" She glanced pointedly at Tali, then me, "Interspecies relations are hard enough without assholes like him on the street."

"How disappointing, my dear Widow," said a new voice from behind us, "Though I guess I should have known you'd betray me. You do that to all your lovers, after all. Though usually you at least give them one last good blow as a parting gift." Finch moved through the crowd, making for our little group. The crowd cleared and quieted, watching the proceedings from a safe distance.

If the words were meant to scathe her, they failed. She turned to face him, nostrils flaring, and said with vehemence placed on each word, "I **am not** your _anything_ , least of all the Widow, and you do not control me. I won't let you compromise my position, or humanity's chance at taking their place in the galaxy."

He sighed emphatically, sneering in a way that made it quite clear this was the most he had enjoyed himself in a long time. Waggling his finger at Teandra as if she were a misbehaving varren, he said, "It was a simple task, easy to complete. You failed, and now you'll have to be punished. It'll only take one news story about your origins with the Reds to discredit you completely. Your membership in one of the most currently vocal anti-alien organizations…"

"Which they _weren't_ when I was a member," She pointed out.

"The murders you committed on your own race…"

" **By your orders**!" She almost screamed, drawing her knife reflexively, the blade snicking in and out again like a silent companion who had finally joined the conversation in earnest.

"And I'll have to train a new protégé, as well. Tedious, but the breaking process can be very entertaining." I was watching him for treachery, so the only warning I received that Shepard had reached the breaking point was a final snick.

I sensed her movement a moment before I witnessed her plunge the knife to its hilt in the side of the man's neck. She flipped her hold, the blade quivering as Finch's eyes widened in disbelief, then grasped it once again and yanked hard to the left. Arterial spray flew outward, coating our party with the thick, red substance of his life. Tali looked down at her environment suit with disgust, attempting to shake off the sanguine liquid.

A hot, metallic smell filled my olfactory senses, and I watched as the body toppled, still twitching in time with additional small spurts from the gaping wound. I turned to stare at Teandra.

"No. You won't," she said in a tone that made Noveria seem like a tropical paradise.

The crowd had moved further away, though whether because of the spreading pool or the Spectre I wasn't sure. She was a horrifying sight: Her armor covered in blood, face a portal into the human Hell, like a painted death mask. Finch's blood framed her wide, mad eyes, the whites the only contrasting color on that crimson canvas. She was no longer shaking or scared. She calmly opened an armor compartment and took out a cloth, using it to clean her blade before resheathing it, all the while leaving her face untouched.

For the first time since I'd known her, I was completely, absolutely afraid of her.

 _This_ was what she had left behind; the darkness she kept tightly chained within herself lest she become the things she hunted, or the man that had created her. I realized I had merely _thought_ I understood her burden before. It was only now that I truly understood just how much I _didn't_ understand.

"Impressive," the turian guard spoke from behind us. "Perhaps the first human Spectre will not be a disappointment after all." His expression was one of bemusement, and in spite of his close proximity he was far enough out of the spray arc that he'd only gotten a few spatters of blood on his brown boots. I suppose I would have felt the same had I not known her, and if the quickly drying blood wasn't beginning to stick to my face and coat the inside of my mouth unpleasantly.

Turning to the General who'd been our initial goal, Teandra said, "I was going to be nice and buck you up as a fellow soldier, but I'm not in the mood." She glanced back at Finch's body. "Sha'ira sent me. You're a fucking soldier and _maybe_ if you act like it, you'll stand a chance at winning her. Take my advice, or I'll be back." She smiled at him menacingly, as if the prospect were entertaining, "You _don't_ want me to come back."

She started walking towards the door, the crowd parting hurriedly to clear her way. Spitting on the corpse as she passed, she said, "Let's go. I want to wash his fucking fluids off me. Thank god it's for the last time."

I had wanted him dead or terrified, and it seemed as if I had gotten my wish on both counts. I just wasn't sure I was happy about exactly how it had been granted.

* * *

I paced the cargo hold, trying to reconcile my anger with my relief. Once the adrenaline had been washed down the drain with the sticky remnants of the gang leader, the only thought that went through my mind in regards to the entire event was, _How dare she?_ _How fucking dare she?_ The hypocrite spends months going on about morality and doing the right thing, how revenge and bloodshed were a last resort. How justice systems were there for a reason. I had finally begun to listen to her way of thinking, to consider the possibility that _just maybe_ she had the right idea, and _then she had to go and fuck it all up_. Very rarely in our adventures had the theory not worked, and her actions had begun to make me doubt my own motivations in life. I had begun to think that perhaps my vigilante temperament might be overkill.

But that was before she made it apparent that morals only applied when it was someone else's revenge. When it was hers, though, fucking rules went out the trash chute.

I couldn't stand it. I had to confront her, to try to quiet the racing thoughts in my head. She'd always had an open door policy. I was about to make her wish she'd triple-encrypted it closed.

The elevator crawled at its nonexistent pace, my talons nervously tapping at the metal before it finally ejected me at the galley. I moved to Shepard's door, just barely dredging up the decency to knock.

"Open," she commanded. I stepped forward almost as soon as the door began moving.

She was back in civilian clothes, her wet hair as much evidence of her hurried shower as the once more pale and gleaming skin. She had a towel in her hands, mussing it through her hair in an attempt to dry it.

"Garrus," she began, taking note of my angry posture I'm sure, "Before you say anything, please let me explain…"

Like hell. Waiting wasn't an option anymore.

"Explain _what,_ Teandra?" My shoulder plates were bunched in unexpressed rage, my voice only slightly quieter than a krogan war cry. "Explain the difference between your revenge and mine? Or explain how you get off criticizing me for my war-like nature when you're quicker to the kill than I'll ever be?" I paused, talons clenching and unclenching. "Or maybe you can explain why you're a more qualified judge and jury than I am, since _you_ get to play executioner."

Her eyes narrowed at my words, and she tossed the towel on the nearby table before replying just as vehemently as I had, "This wasn't a goddamn case, Garrus. This was my **life.** Do you _get_ that?" She reached up to rub the back of her neck angrily, shaking her head in frustration.

"If you think Saleon was just a case, then you don't know me at all." What about the blood on my hands for letting him escape? This wasn't just about right or wrong. It was about using the skills I had to keep good people from getting hurt. Shepard had a quote that almost worked as a personal mantra for me: _"We sleep safely at night because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those who would harm us."_ I was a rough man. Shepard had been trying to change that. Then, she'd pissed on everything she'd ever told me in the blink of an eye, and in that moment I hated her for making me doubt myself. I had obviously been right all along.

"I know you better than you think. Maybe it was revenge, maybe it was about the doc's future victims. If the second one was the case, consider the new girl Finch was going to train."

There may have been some logic to that thought, but I was too pissed to be distracted by her line of reasoning, "It's **not** the same! Besides, you _know_ he was baiting you!"

"Well, he got his wish then, didn't he?"

I growled in frustration, remembering the fear I had felt at her losing control, at how careless she became when that happened. I pointed a talon at her accusingly, " **You** are not fit for this command! First the thresher maw, now this. You're going to get one of us killed Shepard. Just you wait!"

I turned and stalked out of the room, ignoring the pain and hurt on her face, and certainly not bothering to wait for a response. What would be the point? I was done playing her protector. Was tired of listening to her words, words that made me wonder if she were channeling my father. He had spent his life trying to convince me that everything I'd ever believed about life, and myself, was wrong. But at least he'd lived by his own words, unlike some other people I knew.

 _Maybe she should just think on her own actions for a while_ , I thought as I made my way back to the MAKO in a huff. _Perhaps some time alone will help her_ _decide which side of the morality line she wants to live on._ Then, and only then, I might feel inclined to take her advice once again.


	20. Implosion

**Chapter 20- Implosion**

Dreaming has a way of bringing to the forefront of a man's mind the memories and events that influence him more than he could ever realize. Shortly after boarding the ship, Shepard and I had talked about how we each believed Saren should be dealt with. We'd parted ways agreeing to disagree, but the dream that followed the explosive argument in her quarters was littered with images, both real and imagined.

 _I stand in the cargo bay, working on the MAKO, but an atmosphere of uneasiness permeates the air around me._ _Ignoring it studiously, I glance down at the datapad in my talons. As if in defiance of the slim sense of normalcy that remains, I realize it has become an unidentifiable green slithering thing. I shake it off in disgust, and as I move my hand the world swirls around me. The mist expands, taking on patterns of whorls and stripes, finally solidifying into an encompassing bright blue globe. I'm breathing the blue air, wondering at the crisp nature of the life-giving substance, when it begins to condense into two circular shapes. The shapes are still, orbs against the now complete blackness. They wink in and out once, then again, and I realize they are_ _**eyes**_ _. Saren's eyes, accompanied by his gruff laughter as he taunts me: "You will never defeat me. I have destiny to guide me." The spheres begin to move forward, and I know with a surety that if they touch me I will be utterly destroyed. Nothing but a puppet, just like Benezia._

_Then a sweet, sweet voice interrupts him, smashing apart my fear with its familiarity. It is distant, but the words are clear, something tangible in the realm of endless nothing._

" _I get the feeling this isn't a question, Garrus. Speak your mind."_

" _Saren's too dangerous to be kept alive. When we find him, I say we should stop him. Permanently."_

_The voice grows even louder, much more penetrating, as if intent on forcing itself into my very cells._

" _If Saren won't listen to reason, if he forces my hand… I'll kill him in a heartbeat."_

_I fall to the ground, palms pressed over my ears as if to keep out the sound, to ward off the vibrations in the air surrounding me. My sense of self was becoming flexible, being pulled and twisted by the warring entities. Mesmerized, my gaze is forced back to the approaching doom… only to have them shorn in two by a single swipe from an obsidian blade. The handle is pink. Pink like Teandra's blush when I teased her. Pink like her face when she had been struck._

_Then the knife turns on me… and I backpedal hard, coming full force against a cold mortician's slab. My limbs are bound so that all I can do is watch my disembodied executioner come slowly towards me._

I started awake, gasping for breath as my heart tried to pound its way out of my chest.

 _By the Spirits, what the_ riza _was that all about?_ As far as dreams were concerned, mine were usually a combination of bloodshed, sex, and explosions. Nothing over the top, but usually easily decipherable when it came to where the subject matter had come from. But not tonight, it would seem.

I reached groggily for my omni-tool, vaguely wondering why I felt so strange. So… off. That was when my sleep-hazed brain registered the time.

_Ugh. I overslept. Damn it, Shepard's going to kill me for being late for our morning spar. Why didn't she wake me up?_

Then I remembered.

Finch. The blood. Our argument. I remembered everything.

Suddenly my anger resurged, only a shadow of its former strength but with a life of its own. This wasn't your standard angry outburst; this was the kind of emotion that writhes and expands, gaining power if not kept in check. It would only get worse if I bottled it up. _Maybe I should go find her and try to talk things out_. _Before my temper gets completely out of control again._

Quickly and efficiently, I donned my armor and hurriedly made my way to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, I slapped the button for the crew deck, my mind still enveloped in the events of the prior afternoon.

I still thought she was out of line, still thoroughly hated that she had given in to her own baser desires in regards to Finch. Maybe she had a better explanation today, though. _Maybe_ she would be able to better put to words why she was right and I was wrong. The single act of murder that I had witnessed was very contrary to her character. But just because she wasn't going on some random killing spree didn't make her hypocrisy any more acceptable. If anything, it made her betrayal worse.

It did at least occur to me, as the slow metal box began to creep to a complete stop, that I was beginning to bless the clarity of thought those long rides granted me. It was the one place I knew I would be completely alone with my own contemplations. The cargo bay, while isolated, just never managed to give me the same sense of solitude that this Alliance contraption did.

I figured I'd catch her in her room, hash things out. As the doors swished open, though, I was all but physically smacked with a din similar to the noises that pervaded the dance floor at Flux. _So much for privacy._ What I found there was something of a worse-case scenario: Teandra was seated across from Alenko, their hands a mere breath apart in an almost unconcious manner. She glanced up at me as I entered, then dismissed me completely in favor of turning her full attention back to the human. The gesture brought my blood back to a boil. I would almost have prefered if she'd ignored me altogether.

_So that's how you want to play it, huh? Fine, then._

Ignoring her in turn, I nodded to the rest of the crew and approached the synthesizer. However, that damned inconvenient hearing made it impossible not to eavesdrop.

"You didn't actually think you could beat me, did you Kaidan? I've had a lot more practice than you."

"Well, it's not like I've ever had a chance before. You usually partner with Ashley or Garrus."

"Don't see that happening again…" she started to say, but her words were interrupted by Joker. "We've arrived at Virmire, Commander."

"Prepare to land the _Normandy_."

"Would love to. But unless you know how to outmaneuver several AA guns better than I do, you're going in the MAKO. And you're going in hot."

"Then do it. Don't bellyache about it."

She stood, stretching a moment before she moved towards her quarters.

"Kaidan, Wrex. Suit up."

My body moved of its own accord, responding to her order to... _wait_.

Kaidan.

Wrex.

She hadn't called my name.

* * *

She had left me behind.

Pacing the galley, there was no way to soften the blow of that decision. Deserving or undeserving, surely our bond could withstand a simple argument. Right? The only reason she'd leave me behind was if my loyalty was suspect.

Why would she doubt my intentions, or how much I cared about her safety, based off a single little disagreement? We'd had many spats throughout our time on the _Normandy_ , though none had been quite so vehement. So why?

 _Because you did just what Finch said you would,_ I thought, palm placed against my carapace angrily. _You left her at a time when she needed you. You abandoned her._

I sat down heavily, felled by the prophetic nature of that despicable man's words. Her underlying nature was enthralling, yet utterly terrifying at the same time. How many people could witness that murdering bitch who lived alongside that heroic woman and ever truly trust her at their back again? Not many, I would guess. How many lost friends would it take to make her quit trying to cultivate those relationships altogether?

Footsteps approached, and I raised my head from contemplating my talons, meeting Tali's semi-obscured gaze.

" _Spi'rata,_ are you okay?"

I shook my head at the address. Meaning 'big brother' in quarian, the young girl had started calling me that not long after the thresher maw incident on Edolas. She had no idea how much it meant to me, living reminder of Mishta that she was. My sister had been a tough, but kind soul as well. Her military service had been exemplary, spent bandaging wounded with the Turian Lifebearer Brigade. She hadn't been a very good turian either, though her mistake had been disliking warfare. But, good turian or not, she had done her duty in the best way she knew how, and never once flinched at the orders given her. Even she would have been in awe of my audacity at challenging my commanding officer.

Sometimes, I wondered if I'd been born in the wrong species.

Realizing Tali had asked me a question, I shook my head, then silently berated myself for imitating the human gesture. She didn't comment on the slip, though, only asked, "What happened?"

I flopped my head onto the table in frustration, muttering into the metal surface, "I'm a _ben'jee_ , that's what happened."

She sat down across from me, leaning forward to yank teasingly on my fringe in order to get my attention more fully. "I cannot hear you properly if you do not look at me. And care to be more specific? Because I would love to know why we came back covered in alien blood last night."

I hesitated. It wasn't my place to divulge Shepard's secrets, quarrel or no. But if anyone deserved an answer, it was Tali. She'd witnessed Shepard at her most vile, so finally I decided part of the story would have to do.

"The guy we met? He took over the gang Shepard was part of when she was ten. They... did things to her that I'm not sure most people in the civilized galaxy could fully comprehend, myself included. She got away from him, and until yesterday, she thought she'd slipped the noose."

"They... tortured her?" Tali seemed unsure of what to say, of what I was implying.

"Something like that. In actuality, it would be more like someone forcing you to link suits at their bidding, and you having no say in the matter."

She looked down at her hands, as if considering this scenario, and I was pretty sure I saw a slight tremor in her fingers before she spoke with surety. "Then I am glad to have witnessed his death. Shepard deserves better than to endure such a life."

I reeled, caught off guard by her response, "So it doesn't bother you just a little that she preaches about achieving peace through negotiation, then kills an unarmed man with a smile on her face?"

She crossed her arms, asking suspiciously, "What did you do?"

In defiance, I mirrored her pose and said, "I called her a hypocrite. Said if she couldn't keep her temper in control while under stress, she wasn't fit for command."

"You are right."

"That she's out of control?"

"No, that you are a _ben'jee_ ," she commented, shaking her head in disbelief.

My mandibles flared in irritation, rolling my eyes as I intoned, "Thanks Tal, you're a _real_ source of comfort."

"And you," she said, punctuating the point by kicking me under the table, "are a bigger hypocrite than she is." I yelped for the second time in five minutes, more in shock than in pain. I glared at her from across the table as she continued. "You almost killed him yourself yesterday."

"You're point being?" I said petulantly, rubbing at the 'injured' limb.

"That men are all the same, no matter what species."

"You're lucky I'm in such a good mood," I said as I scowled at her playfully, "or I'd have to consider reprogramming the synthesizer again."

"You would not DARE! You almost poisoned me last time." Her tone of mock-vehemence was _almost_ convincing in its severity.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault the default setting was levo-amino…"

I was starting to feel a little better, the banter helping to ease my frustration a bit. But it was more like a bandage being applied to a gangrenous limb; sure, it might mask the problem from view, but it didn't solve it. Tali wasn't Teandra, not by a long shot, and long shots had always been my preference.

I sighed heavily, coming down from my temporary 'high'. "I just don't understand her, Tali."

"Of course not. She is female. And human."

"No, I mean she spent all that time trying to convince me that she was right in how things should be handled in stressful situations. So, why change her stance now?"

"Did it ever occur to you that _you_ might be the reason? I am just an outside observer, of course, but it is unlikely that a close, two-sided relationship such as yours would only foster changes in a one-sided way."

I thumped back against my chair, placing a hand against my carapace, "What? No. A hot-headed turian is _not_ the best person to be influencing someone like her!"

"If not you, then who? Because I do not think there are too many people she trusts so implicitly." She leaned forward, as if to add intensity to her statement. "How many people on this ship call her by her personal name, _spir'ata?_ Not even Alenko does it. Not where any of us can hear, anyway."

I thought furiously back over every mission, every casual encounter, looking for examples to prove Tali wrong. Unfortunately, all I found were examples that proved her right. _By the damn Spirits, how could I have missed it? Some investigator I am._ But what did that mean? Exactly what _could_ it mean? Was it that no one else had the quad to do so? No, that couldn't be it. She certainly never demanded anyone call her by her clan name specifically. Hell, she referred to each one of us by our personal name, as Tali put it. But... the alternative would be that we were closer than I dared to admit, and _that_ was territory that I was not willing to venture into.

Fortunately, I wouldn't have to.

"Attention on deck! Commander Shepard has destroyed the enemy AA guns. We are preparing to land, and all squad members are required to disembark in full armor."

Shooting each other a look, Tali and I stood and started moving towards the stairwell, both of us already being suited up.

"Tali. Thanks," I touched her shoulder lightly, turning her to face me as I spoke, "I still think she and I need to talk, but I think I'm going to be more willing to listen to what she has to say now."

"Good. Keep in mind that I helped you next time to plan on reprogramming my omni-tool to call me _shira_."

"What's wrong with calling you a 'cute, little, cuddly thing'?"

She burst out laughing, "Is that what it means in turian? Because in quarian, it means 'illegitimate son of a varren.'"

It was very hard not to walk into the wall when my head was buried in my palms.

* * *

Pacing. Apparently pacing was my new favorite pastime.

Teandra was the most trying woman I had ever met. First, she murders someone and gets mad when I'm affronted, as any good cop would. Then, she runs into Alenko's arms as if to say, "See, you're replaceable." Now she'd raced off in the MAKO without so much as a goodbye. And she still took the damn krogan she'd been arguing with not minutes before!

I just didn't get it. Not at all. Pacing the cockpit was as good a response to my confusion as anything.

"Garrus. Buddy. Could you be a pal, take that stick out of your ass, and sit the hell down?"

I glared at him, growling under my breath as my eyes flicked from the HUD detailing the location of Ashley's team to the HUD showing the Commander's. I couldn't help it. Nervous energy coursed through my body, fueled by the images of the afternoon that were burning their way into my brain.

Shepard… Facing off against Wrex, and winning. Telling Kirrahe to go to hell, then grudgingly sending Ash to help his men fight their way in, anyway. Freeing some partially indoctrinated salarians, then being forced to shoot them when they attacked. Laughing as she watched the asari scientist run away, hoping to outrun the blast. Setting off the alarms in the base to draw the heat off Team Jaeto, giving Ash some breathing space for a moment.

Supervising the bomb being unloaded with a wary eye, only to have Ash announce she was pinned and would never make the rendezvous. Ordering Tali to replace Alenko, so he could begin arming the nuclear device as they went to the marine's rescue.

They all flashed through my head in the space of a few breaths. _I should be the one leading the salarians. I should be down there. By the damn Spirits, I'm a fucking_ soldier _, not a ship-warmer. At least everything seems to be going off without a hitch…_

As if the very Spirits I had just cursed were mocking me with some cosmic joke, Wrex's gruff voice came over the comm as the krogan, human, and quarian exited an elevator. "Damn, geth are sending reinforcements." Following this came Ashley's voice, warning, "Heads up, LT. I just spotted a troopship headed to your location."

"They're already here! There's geth pouring all over the bomb site." Alenko's voice was panicked, and I could hear him frantically firing his pistol. I stopped my pacing, moving to grip the back of Joker's chair. "Fuck… do we have a clear LZ at either location, Joker?"

He silently shook his head, sarcasm conspicuously absent. We both listened in horror as the conversation continued.

"Can you hold them off?" Shepard asked in an even tone, not allowing any emotion to taint her voice.

"There's too many. I don't think we can survive until you get here. I'm activating the bomb." There was a series of beeps, interrupted angrily by Shepard. "What in the hell do you think you're doing, Alenko?"

"Making sure this bomb goes off no matter what," his voice was sad, but the determination it held overwhelmed any doubts anyone could have about his resolve. "It's already done, Commander. Go get Williams and get the hell out of here."

Ash cut in, with her usual eloquence, "Screw that! We can handle ourselves. Go back and get Alenko."

My grip on the chair tightened, shredding the soft padding like paper. Normally, this would have earned me a nasty look from the pilot, but all he did was glance at me. He'd finally realized what I had moments before: She was going to have to choose. Someone was going to get left behind.

"Joker… Jeff… there's _got_ to be something we can do."

"Don't you think if there was, I'd already be doing it, you asshole?"

Ashley or Kaidan. They'd both been with her since Eden Prime, both become close companions in their own ways. Alenko had worked his way to her heart, sharing stories of his childhood. But Williams had affected her soul, sharing her own family heritage and being absolved in turn. How do you choose between a man who has claim to your love and the woman who embodies everything you've ever fought for?

She didn't leave us wondering long.

"Alenko. Joker. I'm coming back to the bomb site." Her tone was dead, as if the gravity of the decision she had made was eating her alive.

"Yes, Commander," Joker responded, manipulating the _Normandy'_ s controls without hesitation.

"Aye, Commander. I…" Kaidan started, but Ashley wouldn't allow him to argue anymore. "You know it's the right choice, LT." She sounded grim and determined. _Obstinant as ever._

"I'm sorry, Ash," Teandra's voice broke, just slightly, so slightly I'm not sure anyone else even heard it. "I had to make a choice."

"I understand, Commander," the soldier, _no, the_ _warrior_ , replied, **"** _ **I don't regret a thing."**_ There was a click, then she continued, "C'mon you fucking mechanical bastards. Here's a little music to die to." A heavy beat filled the speakers, and Ashley timed her shots before she began singing, _screaming_ , along with the song.

 

 _Gather 'round young warriors now_  
_Saddle up your steeds_  
_Killing scores with demon swords_  
_Now is the death of doers of wrong_  
_Swing the judgment hammer down_  
_Safely inside armor, blood, guts and sweat_

 

"By the damn Spirits, that fucking crazy bitch…" I wanted to walk away, to stop listening, to pretend it wasn't happened, but I couldn't. Running away would be a disservice to her, the one who I'd only just begun to call, "friend." My grip tightened again, as if to stake me to the spot, denting the metal beneath my talons.

"Vakarian, calm the hell down or get out of my cockpit."

I released the chair, backing away from the screens, not daring to blink lest I miss something.

"I'm sorry, it's just…"

"Yeah, I know."

I resumed my pacing, left to right, gaze never wavering. More gunfire came over the channel, the steady crack of Shepard's Harpoon and the _rat-tat-tat_ of Ashley's Kovalyov almost drowning out the music. Then one last line filtered through.

 

 _They've come to take your life_  
_On through the dead of night_  
_With the Four Horsemen ride_  
_Or choose your fate and die_

 

She stopped as Shepard reentered the open area housing the bomb, interrupted by a sound all of us were intimately familiar with now. The frequency of the geth rounds intensified, as if it were a crescendo in response to the actions of both women, and Ash spoke one last time.

"Commander, set that damn nuke and get out. We can't hold them. Damn it. Suppressive fire! Cover your flank. Cover your…"

Then static. Achingly silent static. I saw Joker swallow, hard, as our whole world imploded.

Later, Teandra would describe her encounter with Saren. Would explain the reasons he gave for his actions. Would shudder as she spoke of the horrendous memories his hand around her throat invoked. But I registered nothing until Joker broke the silence as he screamed.

"All right, everybody, hang on!"

As the _Normandy_ raced away, a mushroom cloud erupted in our wake, so close as to seem as if it were the ship itself that had created it. Ashley… she had acted as only a true hero would. If she were a turian, she'd have been awarded a Medal of Valor within the week. As it was, as the cloud encompassed my vision, I spoke the only honor I had the right to give.

"May your lifeforce become one with the Spirits. _Al Kalita da Suta_."

"May you fly with the wind," I heard Teandra's soft voice join with mine, the death parting between warriors falling from our lips in unison.

Even then, I still couldn't force myself to face her. Not yet.


	21. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW- description of past rape and violence in this chapter.

_I wanted you to know_  
_That I love the way you laugh_  
_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away…_

Seether- _Broken_

**Chapter 21- Lost (Shepard)**

I was lost again, drowning in a sea of emotions and memories once more. Flashes of trauma filled images relentlessly filled my mind, but I was numb. I refused to cry, was only vaguely aware that the need for food had come and gone unanswered. But the pictures blatantly disregarded my orders to leave me alone.

_Blond hair billowing in the wind. Dark eyes smiling as her darker hand grabs for my pale one. "Tandy, come on! I want to play on the merry-go-round before the cops show up..."_

Oh, spirits, no. Not this. Anything but this...

Once again, my pleas are ignored, and before I know it, I'm back at that rusted-metal maze they called a park. Long condemned, there's no one there but us and, for once, we are children, and nothing more. We play with wild abandon, and for one glorious afternoon, the rest of our wretched existence fades away into nothing. No gangs. No pimps. No pushers. Just two little girls, playing in the dirt and reveling in the freedom that we might never see again.

_Carra..._

My resolve almost crumbles as I remember her smiling face, watching it morph into the mass of bruises and abrasions she would receive in the following years, courtesy of Finch's reign. And I very nearly _weep_ when I remember the last time she smiled at me.

The day I helped her end her own life.

Assisted suicide or not, she was my very first kill. Normal, much more sane people would recoil at such a thing, but I knew as well as she did that death was the only way she could escape the tortures Finch put her through. Put _us_ through. I had recoiled at first, myself, simply because with her gone, I'd be alone. Alone, with no one who gave a damn about me, or share in the pain. But, ultimately, I realized how selfish it was to let her suffer, just so I wouldn't have to walk through hell alone.

Which was why I held her, masking my intent with slow and steady motions. She curled against me, slowly sobbing. "Why does he do this to me, Tandy? When does it stop hurting?" I inhaled slowly, following the motion with a quick snap left. The feeling was strange, the popping sensation imprinted on my nerves as I slowly released the tension on her upper torso. Her body involuntarily expelled the last of her oxygen as Carra's head lolled to the side.  I clutched her limp hand, the short trip her body made to the chilly ground not enough time to overcome the numbness that threatened to overwhelm me. _You just killed your best friend… you don't_ _ **deserve**_ _not to feel anything._ But I didn't cry until her bruise-riddled hand slid from mine and hit the grass...

" _Death is a release, not a punishment..."_

I could still hear Finch utter those words, an echoing mockery of the line from one of Jackon's favorite movies. It was the first time I'd ever seen my master lose control, the night he realized his plaything was gone. It was also the first time he raped me.

I stood, restlessly pacing the area between my bunk and my desk, throwing myself down on my bed as the next image came unbidden…

Brown. Jackson's eyes were brown. _Focus on them… not on the ragged, bloody holes all over his body. Don't let him know how terrified you are. Be strong for him._

His tongue protrudes from his mouth, and it looked much the same as it did when he'd try to fix that ancient projector for the millionth time. But movie nights are over forever. The air was thick with the smell of fear and body fluids, the sweet and salty tang of sweat and the obscene male grunting forcing its way past any mental barriers I'd tried to erect. I couldn't keep the images out even if I wanted to; even if I could have forced my mind to try to isolate itself from the images of my surrogate parents' torture.

 _Don't you_ _ **dare**_ _let her know you're too terrified of being next to save her. Look her in the face…_ But Elayne was absorbed within herself, her sanity finally cracking only seconds after a boot struck Jackson's skull with a wet thud. She stared at his unmoving body without blinking, no emotion painting her face as the next man mounted her from behind…

I rolled over, focusing on the ceiling to drive away the pictures by overwhelming them with minutia. It was one of the few tactics the counselors had tried to teach me that had actually worked. And the horrors did abate, for a moment, but as soon as my pacing resumed so did they.

 _Movement._ "Another mini quake!" I yelled as the ground trembled beneath me for the hundredth time that morning, "when is this shit gonna stop?"

"Maybe if you quit making _Tremors_ references, Shep, this god-forsaken planet will stop PMS-ing," Cortez joked, high-fiving Toombs, ever the comic duo.

"Get off me, jackass. We didn't have this shit in Charleston." The ground shook again, harder, as if offended by the jokes. "Guys, maybe we should…" Whatever I was about suggest, however, was interrupted by a piercing scream. It bored into my brain, trying to drive me to my knees and corrupt my will to fight. But if nothing else, Finch had taught me to be a stubborn bitch, to survive. I vaguely registered my fellow soldiers succumbing to the infrasound waves, hitting the ground as they tried in vain to block out the sound with their hands.

I acted on instinct honed within every cell of my body, firing my weapon until it overheated. I switched weapons, firing once again until the weapon refused to respond, then switched back. I dimly, as if from somewhere far off, heard the impossibly soprano cries of my companions. They had been caught in a blast of venomous spray, Cortez all but engulfed in the acidic poison. It's all background noise, though, as Red focused on making it out alive. That was her priority, no matter what I wanted. That was the day I learned to hate her; the day I vowed to purge her from my life…

I grabbed my hair, yanking hard to bring myself back to the present. _No more_ , I thought in desperation. _Please no more._

The Spirits must have taken pity on me, because the last two memories were nothing but flashes.

_Jenkins, hole riddled body the first soldier I would to lose under my command._

_Ashley, the last one I would EVER allow my self to lose, saying, "I don't regret a thing."_

_**I had failed them all** _ _._

Who in the hell had decided I was wise enough to pull this off? What cruel higher power had decreed _me_ the one to lead these troops? Whoever it was hadn't asked my opinion, that was for damn sure. If they had, I could have warned them that a murdering, thieving, lying, sociopathic orphan was not the person to save the galaxy. If nothing else, Anderson and Udina should have known better.

As much as I hated to admit it, this also proved how much I was alone in this. Caring for people I could lose any moment was a hazard I wasn't sure I wanted to risk. Finch had been right about that much, though even in my current state I wasn't blind to the irony of the fact that is was his blood on my hands that had cost me my dearest friend.

I moved back to the bed, collapsing onto my knees, facing the wall as if it could take my confession and absolve me. Maybe then, I could speak his name. Or at least think it.

Garrus… I would give anything for his level-headed, straightforward view on things right about now. But I was too ashamed to seek him out. Too ashamed of how I had betrayed the lessons I had taught him, and the people who had trusted me with their lives. I wasn't brave enough to face him, and that made me _angry_. Made me despise my own weakness.

My fists began pounding my pillow, a futile effort to stave off my own self-revulsion. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough pain to drive away my hatred of myself. Looking up frantically, the matte surface of my headboard became the target of my fury.

_**How can I ever face any of them again?** _

As if fate were determined to play one last, cruel trick on me, I heard a whoosh of air as my door opened. There was only one person it could be, who would have the quad to enter my personal quarters without permission.

"Are you okay?" The familiar voice, flanging and all, scathed me with concern.

I flung myself forward, shoving my face deep into my pillow so I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes. From there, I summoned enough strength to try to savage him, to try drive him away.

"Go _away_ , Garrus. That's a _fucking order!"_ My voice may have been harsh, but somewhere deep inside I was aware that I _needed_ him here, needed his… I don't know. His solidarity, I suppose.

His gentle, pitying tone was nearly as gut-wrenching as Ashley's final statement. "Never been good at taking orders. That's why I left C-Sec, remember?"

Why, of all the people in the galaxy, did it have to be _him_? Not just here, now, but on this whole damn mission? _Impossible_ didn't even begin to describe how disastrous having a rebellious turian be the one to break through my barriers was. I'd already fielded several terse messages from Udina regarding my choice of companions while on the Citadel. But I didn't care what that asshole thought. Garrus and I knew where we stood, and that was all that mattered.

I hadn't counted on him becoming a cornerstone of my life, though, especially so quickly. Hadn't counted on the man becoming an irreplaceable resource. Hadn't planned on caring for him so much.

I didn't love him. It wasn't that sort of caring. But the last few days had made clear how well we complemented each other, my fellow warrior and I. _He makes me complete…_ my sleep addled brain chimed in.

I sensed more than heard him cross the room, taking a seat at the edge of the bunk, and I edged to the wall rather than risk him touching me. I hadn't cried yet, but I just might if he continued to burn me with his compassion.

There was a hint of humor in his voice, though, as he said, "Hey, the crew voted. You get me or Kaidan. Want me to go get him?" I shook my head, overwhelmed by the thought of the accusation in the biotic's eyes. Or worse, his love in spite of the monster I was.

"Do you really want me to leave?"

I shook my head again, still not trusting my voice.

"Then tell me how to help."

With those words, my jury had been chosen, and I took the stand in my own trial.

"I fucking had to sacrifice one of my people to save another. There's no way to _rationalize_ that. Logically, I know it was the best tactical decision, but I should have been able to save them both." I beat my head against the pillow in frustration. "You can tell me I did the right thing, but it sure as hell feels wrong."

Garrus hesitated a moment, as if measuring his words carefully. It was one of those characteristics that was so wonderful about him: Rash as he could be when his temper flared, he could also be counted on to answer truthfully, and tact be damned. Maybe it was a turian trait, but I valued it no matter what the source.

"Had you gone after Ashley, and left Alenko with the bomb, who would have stopped Saren from disarming it?" He paused, then continued, "And we both know Kirrahe wouldn't have made it without Ash's help. Cut the drivel long enough to analyze your actions as a commander, Teandra."

That was the problem, though. If I examined my actions, what became obvious was that the only difference between this mission and _every other one_ was that I had left Garrus behind. Outside of Virmire, he'd been my constant companion. _Those_ missions had been complete successes, bolstered by the abilities of my partner, and the innate trust I had in his skills. If he'd been there, if I hadn't been so petty… I could have left him with Alenko and saved Ashley. I could have rescued all of them, and the knowledge ripped me apart one small section at a time.

I could not say that aloud, though. Just couldn't. So I changed the subject.

"I can't sleep." I turned towards him, finally meeting his blue eyes with my own. The orbs swept my features, taking in my disheveled hair and the tired set of my shoulders in one quick glance. Still, despite his unwanted pity, I told him the rest, "Every time I close my eyes I see them: Ash, Jenkins, Finch's girls, the men on Akuze. I know its part of the job, but when does it stop hurting, Garrus?" I knew it wasn't a fair question, knew there was no right answer, from years of experience. Bless that sweet turian, though, he did try. Lying down across from me, he began stroking my hair as he spoke.

"I'm not sure, little Spectre. But I would imagine the day you stop caring. And that would be a sad day."

I sighed, both at the words and the touch. The man whose whole life revolved around justice had just become my judge and jury, had just pardoned my crimes. _He_ had absolved me of my blame, when I myself was incapable of doing so.

"You can't change the past. You can only live for the future, try to make those sacrifices mean something. None of us would hesitate to give our lives for this mission."

"I know that, I just… you're right. I know you're right." I closed my eyes, the rhythmic motion of his talons on my scalp beginning to finally lull me to sleep. But the rasping noise it made began to intrude on my mind at the cusp of serenity with the awkward closeness of the situation. Determined to keep the moment as it was, I asked my friend for one more thing, a distraction from the strange sensation. An escape from what my heart threatened to destroy by exposing it.

"Can you just keep talking? Your voice is so soothing right now…" The last sentence was spoken as a barely stifled yawn, and I curled up into a ball, still enjoying the light scratching of talons. And as Garrus began some story about an asari ambassador, I felt myself drift into that dream state between sleep and wakefulness. I felt a small movement, just enough to make me realize I had gotten cold from the lack of sleep.

I reached for my pillow, snuggling into it fiercely, and all the while some part of my brain realized that it was warm and much too firm. A fast, steady drumming sound sang me further into oblivion as a weight came around to rest on the hollow of my hip hesitantly.

 _This is where I belong,_ I thought as I drifted fully into the dreamworld, breathing in tandem with the movement of the surface beneath me. _This is home_.


	22. Lock and Key

**Chapter 22- Lock and Key**

It could have been one hour or four before the bundle that was Teandra rolled of my chest, and I couldn't have told you which, in all honesty. The scenario was much too comfortable, and my mind refused to focus on the ticking of the hours in exchange for enjoying the lifelong second that was being experienced. Eventually though, snoring slightly, she exchanged me for her once-abused pillow, reaching for it with still-bleeding hands. The reason for the oozing of her knuckles was evident on her wall, the smooth surface not even dented from her frustrations. _You're too hard on yourself, you crazy woman. You can't save the whole galaxy._

That's what the powers that be had slated her for, though, hadn't they?

Quietly I stood, stretching slowly to work the kinks out of my muscles as I watched her sleep. Idly, I reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, only belatedly registering what I was doing. Shaking my head at my own silly sentimentality, I wasn't entirely surprised by the action. Teandra Shepard, in the short time of our acquaintance, had never appeared as innocent as she did when she was asleep. She often told me that she was plagued by nightmares, but on the rare occasion when our late night movie sessions had ended with her asleep in the chair next to me, the only expression that ever graced her face was a childlike smile. Once, half-asleep, she had called me her dream-catcher as I awoke her to go to bed as the credits rolled. After I looked it up, I was somewhat awestruck at the idea that I was the guardian of her dreamscape.

Not that I would admit it to anyone, but I kind of liked it, and not in any small part because it was something of a highly romanticized idea for someone who claimed to be so jaded.

I looked around her cabin, really looked, for the first time since I'd walked in. She had spent almost 48 Zulu hours in this room, and the blood that would soon brown wasn't the only damage the small space had sustained from her rampage. Chairs and tables were strewn about, datapads scattered to the four corners haphazardly, as if they'd been thrown blindly without a care as to where or how they fell. Even her switchblade was out of place, laying on the floor at the foot of the bed instead of secreted away on her person. After Virmire, zombie-like, she had accepted Kirrahe's thanks on behalf of Ashley's sacrifice almost stoically. Once we had entered the debriefing room, however, she had endured Alenko's criticisms with thinly disguised feelings of betrayal and self-loathing.

_"Ash died because of me. Because of us."_

I wanted to strangle him; to shake the biotic until he could see past his own grief long enough to sense hers. But all I could do was wonder at his arrogance in thinking _their_ relationship could _ever_ be the reason for such a decision; because for me to speak after my own words to her the day before? That would have been a betrayal all its own.

_"You're going to get one of us killed, Shepard…"_

Numbly, she'd assured Kaidan it wasn't the fault of either of them, though she lacked conviction when she referred to herself. She'd let Liara do her research without protest, but also without her customary concern for the asari's well being that always followed such mental encounters. She'd even brought herself to face the council, a conversation I'd felt obligated to eavesdrop on, and I must say, listening to Teandra's response to Sparatus's criticisms was the highlight of my year. Even now, the memory made me smile.

_"Don't you humans have a saying, even a broken clock is right twice a day?" The arrogant turian ambassador was baiting her again, playing on the weakness she had shown in every conversation by backing down in order to remain diplomatic. The Spectre was obviously pissed off and worn down by the things she had endured, though, because she responded, "We also have another saying… go to hell." Behind the closed pneumatic doors, it was all I could do to muffle my cackles of laughter so they wouldn't know I was listening._

She had appeased them by ordering us to head back to the Council, her fiery intentions of revenge on Saren and his lot as apparent as her similar hair color.

 _"Back to the Citadel, Joker. I want the_ Normandy _at the head of the attacking fleet."_

The object of my recollections gave a small whine, bringing me back to the present forcefully. I opened her door, turning to relock with my omni-tool it before moving towards the dining area.

When I had entered her room, the entire crew had been in the galley, discussing our latest loss and the Commander's reaction to it. We had speculated that she wanted the isolation, but I don't think anyone would have anticipated what I had walked in on. I don't think she would have ever forgiven herself if any other crew member had witnessed her in her moment of weakness. She abhorred that side of herself with a passion that made my own pale in comparison, and the fact that she was willing to allow me (and no one else) to see it was the source of many a contemplative moment for me. Strangely enough, as well, no one had really questioned who would be the one to go in after her that afternoon. I'd told her the crew had voted, but in all honesty they had looked to me expectantly when the time came to face her, no discussion required. Even Alenko. Considering some of the prejudices the members of the _Normandy_ had harbored when the mission had begun, this was a clear and unmistakable indication of how Shepard's lessons had become a way of life for all of us. Her one completely unbreakable rule had always been, "I won't stand for intolerance." That wonderful woman gauged us on our abilities, not our race, and given another opportunity I'm not sure I'd ever be able to work for any human without similar views.

As I exited her room, there were only three individuals remaining: Alenko, Chakwas, and Tali. Catching the Lieutenant's eye, I said the only thing I could, "She's hurting, but she's okay." The grey haired doctor stood as I spoke, so I aimed my next sentence at her as she moved towards the Commander's door. "She's sleeping for the first time since Virmire, according to her. She didn't appear to be in any immediate physical danger, so best let her be for now."

She hesitated, then nodded, wordlessly changing direction to move towards the sickbay. Just one more indication of the respect I had gained from them, and I wondered if it were my own personality that had granted it, or Shepard's view of me. I then turned to Tali.

"We should probably just continue to the Citadel. That's all we can do, really."

"We're almost there," came Joker's voice, unexpected but unsurprising. "We'll arrive in about ten hours."

"Thanks, Joker." An almost inaudible click was the only indication he'd heard me.

Alenko wearily buried his face in his hands, rubbing the heels of them into his eyelids. His grief was obvious, his face haggard, though whether from Ash's loss, Teandra's retreat from him, or a combination of the two I didn't know. I moved behind him, placing a taloned hand on his shoulder. Silently, I squeezed it slightly as if to say. "It's okay. _She's_ okay." Maybe, by the time we had to face the Council, the woman we cared for would prove me right.

* * *

 _Why did I expect anything less?_ Our trio was awaiting the decontamination sequence to complete itself as we wearily dragged ourselves back onboard. __Why would I_ possibly _have ever thought those three idiots would actually DO something for a change?__

Stranded. Trapped. Marooned. No matter how you looked at it, Udina had stabbed us in the back by locking down the _Normandy_ , and Shepard had made it VERY clear what she thought of that. _I would not want to be that man if he ever ran into her alone in a Citadel elevator..._ And in spite of the sacrifices she had made, all the blood she'd shed, they didn't fucking believe her.

We still hadn't really spoken, outside of the necessary conversation for everyday operations. True, she'd only been up for a few hours, but I had hoped that our experiences in her bedroom would temper the argument we'd had. I was wrong. We were no longer at odds, but we weren't back to our old selves, either. Our banter was nowhere to be found, and Tali nudged me more than once as we made our way to the council chambers, gesturing towards the pointedly silent Commander. Each time, I would shake my head vehemently. _Not the right time_.

But now we were back on the ship, we had missed any chance to have a private conversation. So, instead of following her, I waved Tali on and detoured to the cockpit.

"Hey Joker," I said as I entered his sanctuary, making sure he knew of my approach. More than one of us had walked in on, shall we say, 'private time' when entering unannounced. I didn't have the heart to tell him that many of those sites were illegal in Citadel space, especially with the way I felt about the civilized galaxy at the moment.

"What do you want, Vakarian? Come to destroy some other essential piece of my equipment?"

"Considering what we tend to find you doing in here, you may want to rephrase that statement."

He turned his chair, grinning but still rolling his eyes. "Very funny, Plate-Face. So why _are_ you here?"

"To apologize about your chair. I lost control, and I'm sorry."

"Dude, if I had super-strength and can-openers for fingers, the _console_ would probably be shot. I'm impressed that's all you sliced open."

Whatever response I would have given to that statement was interrupted by a familiar set of voices.

 _"Commander, are you alright? I'm sure there's a way to appeal. We're under Alliance authority, not the council."_ The defiant tone was one I was unused to hearing from the normally reserved biotic.

 _"Official channels are closed. They were quite clear about that."_ Resignation was something I had heard from Teandra only once before, and I despised having to hear it twice in as many days.

I crossed my arms, glaring at the pilot. "Eavesdropping, are we?"

He turned his chair back to the console. "I wasn't, but I am now. Give me a few seconds and I'll be _spying,_ too." He tapped a few controls, bringing up a vid screen with an overhead view of the lockers near the galley. Teandra was sitting with her back against the metal surface, knees drawn wearily up to prop her elbows on. Alenko stood over her, his posture radiating irritation at the situation the Council had put them in.

"Are you insane? You can't spy on them."

"Watch me. Well, more accurately, them. Or don't. There's nothing else to do on this ship."

I knew I should leave, but the private picture into the so-called relationship my best friend shared with the LT was _way_ too fascinating to walk away from. Joker shot me a knowing smirk.

_"Closed. And we're just supposed to accept that? So where do you think the best view will be when the Reapers roll through?"_

"Jeez, Alenko. Trying to find a make-out spot already? I hear the council chambers have this really neat tree…"

I waved him to be quiet. "Shhhh. Listening, here. You started this, so stop ruining it." The pilot snorted at me indignantly, a response I ignored as talking resumed elsewhere.

 _"We're out of the game for now. I'm going to need you to be there while I figure things out."_ I could hear her stifle a sigh over the speaker, but I doubted Alenko, or even Joker, caught it.

_"You know you can count on me, or any of the crew, Commander."_

Joker and I just looked at each other, simultaneously rolling our eyes. I snapped to attention, imitating the starch-saturated soldier, much to the pilot's amusement as I silently mocked the human in question. "Is he _really_ that oblivious?" I asked in disbelief.

"Looks like it, don't you think? Who stays all official with _that_ piece throwing herself at you?"

"Someone who doesn't trust himself to let loose." This statement earned me an appraising look from the pilot. I stared back. "What? I'm right."

_"Come on, Kaidan. I can get a salute from anyone on this ship. Sometimes I need a shoulder."_

"She can get a salute from me, all right," Joker iterated. I gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Is your mind _always_ on sex?" I said disdainfully.

"This coming from a guy who spars with her on a daily basis, thinking none of us know what he's all about? I _do_ actually read the articles in  _Fornax._ " He laced his fingers behind his head, eyes never leaving the viewscreen as Kaidan rambled on, deliberately ignoring any embarrassment I might have shown in response to his statement.

 _"Yeah. I always leave a way out. You know that. I'm here for you, but we're in a rough spot, and the last thing I want to do is muddy the waters."_ I held up a hand to forestall any comment my companion could make about 'rough spots' and 'muddying waters,' as Alenko continued. _"Like it's all that clear to begin with. Are we the pride of the fleet or not? Are we valued agents, or just peons?"_

Joker joined his thumb and forefinger, moving them up and down in a motion that could only be interpreted as inappropriate. I raised an eye ridge, snorting as I shook my head slightly, then looked back at the screen just as Teandra shot the man in front of her an exasperated look. _"Can't just pull out a good, old-fashioned 'it'll be alright' can you?"_

Joker opened his mouth as I laughed, saying, "Don't. Just don't." He looked at me petulantly like a scolded child, muttering something that sounded like, "Killjoy." Whatever that meant.

_"It's that easy, huh? Okay, then. Everything will be fine, Shepard. You'll figure it out."_

_"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"_

We both howled with laughter, Joker commenting between gasps, "Obviously not, or you'd be past the conversation stage by now, LT." I plopped into one of the nearby chairs, still trying to catch my own breath. Both of us lost our mirth, though, as Alenko looked down at the redhead with a fierce intensity, as if coming to a conclusion. Or maybe just finally manning up.

 _"I could get used to it. I guess we have some downtime to figure out what we are, huh?"_ He reached down for her hand, as if to help her up, and as she stood he pulled slightly so she stumbled into his arms. Their gazes locked, faces inches from one another, and I watched with growing anxiety as they moved closer. My breath caught as if against my will, but I couldn't look away.

Then, when it seemed inevitable that their lips should meet, that a single harsh breath would bring them together, a static click interrupted them as Joker spoke. "Sorry to interrupt, Commander. Got a message from Captain Anderson." My gaze shot to him, his face portraying an overwhelming innocence I didn't believe for one second. _What the hell are you doing?_ I mouthed, gesturing violently with my hand. He grinned and shrugged noncommittaly. Teandra's response mirrored my own indignation.

_"Were you spying on us, Joker?"_

Voice completely sincere in his lie, he replied, "No, ma'am. Just knew you were on the ship and figured I'd pass the message on. The Captain said to meet him at Flux, that club down in the Wards."

Kaidan stepped away, once again the businesslike officer. "Well, I guess you better go, then."

I clicked the screen off, turning to face the troublemaker half-amused/half-bewildered. " _Is_ there even a message?"

"Duh, I'm not stupid enough to make up _that_ big a lie. And by the way, you're welcome." His attention was once more focused on the console in front of him as I stood, but I stopped in my tracks at that last.

"What are you talking about?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"Fine. Play stupid. But you owe me, Vakarian. Remember that."

It dawned on me what he must be referring to. "I have no problem with their relationship, Joker. You're starting to sound like Alenko, with his suspicious _boskaverna_."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself, Plate-Face." I could almost hear Ash echo the pilot's words and laughter as I exited the cockpit, her stupid nickname yipping at my heels. _I don't have a problem with it._ I reiterated forcefully. _I_ _ **really**_ _don't._

* * *

We'd done it.

By the damn Spirits, we'd really done it.

"I can't believe we stole the _Normandy_. After everything you told me… it seems a bit extreme, don't you think?" I was smiling, arms crossed as I leaned against the MAKO.

Teandra didn't seem to catch the sarcasm at first though, huffing in indignation as she said, "Stealing the _Normandy_ is a trivial risk compared to the threat of… wait. You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

My expression must have given her all the answer she needed, because we both started laughing, finally breaking the tension we'd been carrying for what felt like a lifetime.

Eventually, I looked at her intently, and asked, "Want to talk?"

Sighing, she moved to lean against the MAKO next to me, not looking at me but allowing her shoulder to brush my arm. "Yeah, we probably should, huh?"

"Yeah." The silence stretched, however, neither of us speaking, until finally I could bear it no longer.

"Little Spectre, I'm sorry for...," I began, only to be interrupted by her forceful, "I'm so sorry, Garrus."

We both stopped, then laughed again at our own foolishness.

"We're idiots, aren't we?" she asked.

I thought for a minute. "No. Not idiots. Just too much alike for our own good, sometimes. Hair and plating not-withstanding."

She smirked as she replied, "You mean, hard-headed and sure of our own way of thinking? Or masters with a sniper rifle?"

"Or beating ourselves up for things we can't change?" I chimed in, pointedly. She rolled her eyes. "No, I mean it." Stepping out in front of her, I faced her, taking one of her smaller hands in my own, much larger one to examine the broken knuckles. "This won't fix things. Blaming yourself for every person you lose…"

"You mean like chasing someone down across half a galaxy?" she interrupted, her hand still cool within my own. Bowing my head for a moment, still focused on her marred skin, I said the only thing I could in response to the unspoken accusation.

"I've thought a lot about what you've told me. About not sacrificing innocents to achieve the goal. About finding the best way through, not just the fastest." I hesitated, then plowed on to say what I was thinking before I lost the quad. "I've been thinking about Doctor Saleon, too. I'd convinced myself that he deserved to die, but then I started thinking about why I wanted him dead. I realized it wasn't because of what he did to those people. That was part of it. But I think most of it was because he got away from me. He escaped under my watch and I didn't like that. I let it become personal."

Gazing at her own hands in contemplation of my words, she said heatedly, "Words mean nothing until you turn them into action, Garrus. What are you going to do about it?"

I dropped her hand, reacting to the challenge in her words as much as the desire that flared unexpectedly from the statement. Placing a taloned hand on each side of her, I leaned forward, trying to understand.

"What are you saying, little Spectre? What are you trying to tell me?" Fire radiated through my blood, contemplating the implications if everyone else had been right. Tali, Alenko, Joker… they'd all been hinting at our relationship being something more. We'd both laughed it off as crew gossip. There were times, though, when I caught hints of what they were talking about. Like now. But I wasn't willing to commit myself to anything concrete just yet. Not waiting for her answer, not even really sure if I was ready to hear it, I went on.

"I'll reapply for Spectre training. But I'll do it right. I won't compromise myself to get there." I leaned a little closer, trying to emphasize my point, drawn in almost unconsciously by the sweet scent drifting off of her. She looked away for a moment, possibly to escape the intensity of my words or my gaze, before looking back determinedly as I resumed speaking. "If the people I'm sworn to protect don't trust me… well, then, I don't deserve to be the one protecting them." Even in the moment as I was, I couldn't miss the similarity between our current situation and her earlier closeness with Alenko. That rational part of my mind shoved it down, boxed it away using the revelation of the possibilities that could exist as leverage. "I'm sorry I let you down, Teandra."

Moving forward slightly, her eyes boring into mine, she said, "You didn't let me down. You could never do that. _I_ let you down by not sticking to my guns."

Letting out a ragged breath, I inhaled another whiff of ylang-ylang and said, "What, exactly, makes you think so highly of me, Teandra? I'm just a man, with a man's weaknesses and fallacies."

I should have expected it by then, I really should have, but I still jumped as she opened her mouth to reply only to have Alenko's voice erupt through her comm. _"Shepard? Do you have a minute?"_

"What do you want, Kaidan?" Her tone was probably more harsh than she had intended, much to my own satisfaction.

_"I'd like to see you, if you have the time before we hit Ilos."_

She looked at me for a moment, blue eyes expressing a single moment of longing before she hid it once again. "I better go see what he wants."

I retained my usual posture, saying, "I think I have a pretty good idea. And yeah, you should probably go." Backing away, I gestured towards the elevator with a flourish, and what I hoped was an only slightly strained smile. "Tell him hello for me."

As she walked away, she turned back to me for a second. Giving me a small grin, just a slight upturn of lips, reminding me that that was all we had ever given each other.

And my final errant thought as the door closed was simply, _If you weren't in trouble before, you_ ben'jee _, you are now._


	23. Tug of War

**Chapter 23- Tug of War**

"Do you _know_ how insulting it is to a girl's ego to have to practically _drag_ a guy into bed?" Teandra grunted as she dropped to windmill her legs, a move I effectively dodged before tapping her on the neck to show I'd broken through her defenses. She regained her upright position, huffing as she retreated to her side of our practice ring.

" **Again** ," she said emphatically, "I have to sweat this damn rum out before we hit Ilos." From my own corner, I stopped, studying her face.

"He didn't." I stated in disbelief.

"Didn't what?" She looked at me in utter confusion, holding her attack off for a moment.

"He brought _liquor_ , knowing you don't drink for a reason? Isn't that a little underhanded, even for him?" I managed to keep my voice even, in spite of my disgust, and awaited her reply.

She launched herself forward instead of answering, a lightning-quick fist aimed at my abdomen. She missed me, but only just, and grunted in frustration as she shoved a sweaty clump of hair out of her face. "I wasn't exactly complaining at the time, Garrus."

Ducking under her next punch, I brought my shoulder plate to her stomach, knocking her down and pinning her. "Would you have slept with him without it? Rape is still rape if a mind-altering substance is used, since you can't technically say no..." My voice trailed off as she rolled and kicked me off.

"It was consensual, so don't play cop with me," she said indignantly. "I'm not exactly a virgin, you know." I regained my footing just as she did, and we began to circle anew, each awaiting the others first misstep. "Besides, I told you," she went on, eyes still trained on my every movement, "I won't screw somebody without it, so that should answer your question." She stepped forward, replanting her feet and spinning, attempting a roundhouse kick.

I deflected it easily, responding, "So you're here sparring with me instead of snuggling because?" I grabbed both wrists as I spoke, trying to bring them behind her back, but only succeeding in pushing them upwards. Grunting, I used my greater height to reduce her leverage so she couldn't break free. Adjusting her tactics, she jumped and kicked off my stomach with both feet, breath whooshing out. I fell backwards with the force of a bullet, winded, and watched her execute a reverse somersault. She tapped my chest plating with a satisfied smirk, ending the round.

Panting, I sat up as she said, "A: It's very cute that you think I would be a cuddler. But since sex is a tension release and not some cosmic connection, I am soooo not a cuddler."

 _Really? Only after pouring your heart out, huh?_ I thought as I stood back up.

"And B: Apparently ylang-ylang can cause headaches, and he's in bed with a migraine the size of the Argus Rho cluster." She took a sip out of a water bottle, wiping sweat off her shoulders and her midriff absently. Dropping the bottle and the towel, she said, "Tiebreaker?"

"Of course," I replied as I ducked and charged, catching _her_ off guard for a change. She recovered quickly, however, responding almost instantly. Spinning to the left, she dodged me with ease. Reversing, I pounced again, only to have her turn and meet me, shoulder to chest. We met with a resounding _thud_ , momentum carrying me forward into her very solid stance. I bounced off with the rebound of my own movement, temporarily losing sight of her as she flitted around me. Her choice in clothing, while usually aimed at distraction, worked against her though. The bright green of her top and the pale contrast of her exposed stomach against her black shorts made it easy to track her. To be honest, while Alenko hated that she wore such revealing things around me, I _loved_ it. It made it so much easier to keep eyes on her when she decided to whip around like a _walar_ on stims.

She kicked again as I turned to face her more fully, and this time instead of deflecting, I grabbed her foot and pushed upward. With a harsh cry she stumbled, then braced against my hold and brought her other foot up, locking her ankles behind my fringe and yanking me over her in one smooth motion. _You know, she should_ _ **not**_ _be able to move like that,_ I thought as I stared at the ceiling. Sensing her moving in for the kill tag, I snagged her wrists again, dragging her down on top of me.

Tactically, she should have learned by now that close quarters against an opponent of greater strength and size is not to your advantage. Yet, she continued to fail to grasp the point, so it was time to reiterate it more forcefully. Laughing, I rolled, pinning her down with her hands above her head to keep her from pulling the same headbutt moved she'd used before. She looked up at me for a moment, then smiled back coyly and teased, "Gee, Garrus, you sure know how to treat a girl." She squirmed uselessly underneath me for a second before going on slyly, "What? No cuffs, Officer Vakarian?"

"Only if you earn them," I purred, chuckling throatily. "This will keep you from knocking me senseless again, though." I felt her legs tense and bunch only a moment before she shoved and rolled, reversing us. Snorting at my own stupidity for gloating, I said, "What, no blades today?"

"I didn't bring them, actually. Fair is fair."

"Oh _really_ now? So if I do this..." I regrasped her hands and rolled again, flipping her so she was face down underneath me this time, "there isn't a thing you could do, is there?" She turned her cheek into the carpet, cutting her eyes at me demurely. Leaning forward, I whispered into her ear, "So now what, _my_ little Spectre?" She blinked, exhaling harshly at the emphasis on _my_. From this close, the mingled sweat of our exertions created a scent that was almost tangible, a phenomenon I had never really taken notice of before. Her soft skin beckoned me to run my talons along it, the body signals she was sending feeding the predatorial centers of my brain. The growl that emanated from me at her elevated heart rate, clearly visible from the jumping of the vein in her neck only inches from my face, was a completely involuntary reaction: One I was only used to hearing myself make after winning a mating bout for dominance. The combined elements excited me all the more, as did her movements as she playfully attempted to struggle, still grinning coyly all the while as if to prove exactly how much she was enjoying the game.

 _"Commander?"_ The sardonic pilot's voice actually held a note of chagrin as he called for Teandra over the comm.

 **"WHAT?"** we both yelled at the loudspeaker in unison, our irritation at the interruption quite apparent. _Is there NO damn privacy on this ship?_ I almost hoped Joker was watching, just so I'd have a valid excuse to kill him later.

"You said to warn you when we were sixty minutes out from Ilos." His voice seemed to lack the almost instinctive sarcasm, but there was still a tiny hint of _knowing_ in his tone I didn't like at all. Or, I could have been just irritated at being interrupted _again!_ Though, now that I knew about our pilot's penchant for spying, a few of those unneeded messages made _much_ more sense now.

"And?" Teandra asked impatiently, urging Joker to get to the point.

"Uh... _we're sixty minutes out from Ilos._ " he emphasized each word as if talking to a small child, obviously amused by Shepard's inability to deduce the information. "Besides, don't you want time to shower before saving the world, Captain Planet?"

"Yeah, well, with my powers combined, I'm so firing your ass." He laughed, leaving me wondering what the joke was, as she continued, "Thanks for letting me know." Sighing heavily, she started trying to push me off, shoving forcefully against me to no avail. Refusing to move, I kept her pinned with my full body weight. Snorting in exasperation, she said, "You gonna get off me?"

"You calling the match?" I countered, kind of hoping deep down she'd say no.

"How about we call it a draw for now, and resume where we left off after we take out Sovereign." Her voice still held a small note of mischief, and for a very brief second I allowed myself to entertain the idea that sparring _might_ not be all she had in mind. Then I came back to my senses with a snort.

I rolled off her resignedly, sitting as she did the same across from me, both of us continuing to draw breath frantically. Still, disheveled, sweat-soaked, and winded, she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. The idea caught me completely unawares, considering my preferences in sexual partners never went beyond turians. I just wasn't wired that way. This felt different, though; more like being able to sense the contentment her presence brought to my very conflicted soul. The thought caused me to hesistate, momentarily speechless, before I managed to stammer out, "Good to know you have faith in us... that we'll succeed, that is."

"Of course we'll make it. We haven't failed a mission together yet, have we?" _No, not together, we haven't._ I didn't dare say that aloud, though, since she'd only use it as an excuse to blame herself for Virmire all over again.

I stood up, reaching one hand down to help her up in turn, voicing something I'd been wanting to say for a while. "Thank you, Teandra."

She crossed her arms good-naturedly, but still with a hint of suspicion, "For what?"

"For bringing me along on this adventure. I feel like I've been given so much by our time together."

She smiled at me then. A true, unabashed, untarnished smile, the likes of which I'd never seen her sport before. Reaching up with her hand, she placed the palm gently against my right mandible, cupping my face strangely. Warmth seem to radiate from where her fingers touched.

"We could never have made it this far without you, Garrus. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you," she paused, as if considering, "Well, not as a whole person, that is."

I returned her gaze, my blood sizzling from the contact. A burning sensation in my lungs reminded me to breathe, and I reached up to stroke a talon lightly along her cheek. For a moment, a small space of time, she increased the pressure of her own fingers as if in reciprocation. Then, it was as if a glass panel slammed between us, cutting off our locked gazes as we both realized the impossibility of the situation. Human and turian, Commander and subordinate; both a recipe for failure.

Wordlessly, she dropped her hand and turned, walking towards the door. As she reached it, she called over her shoulder with what seemed an almost forced flippancy, " _Oh_ , right. Have everyone except Kaidan meet us in here ASAP."

"Still bunked down, huh?"

"Not in my room, he's not. He's in sickbay. I don't give people I fuck unrestricted access to my personal quarters, either." The door closed behind her, giving me a moment to think about her statement. _She's never said a word about me going into her room by myself. I never realized what a large amount of trust that represented._

Shaking my head at my own obliviousness, I exited after her.

* * *

After relaying the messages, I made my way back to the debriefing room once again, only to pause as I entered the doorway. What only minutes before had been a clear area had transformed into an obstacle course of boxes and cases, varying pieces of equipment at differing stages of assembly in the hands of the rest of my squadmates. Liara was looking over a new Savant bio-amp with interest, while Tali appeared to be holding a Logic Arrest Tool, one of Ariake Technologies best omni-tools.

"Shepard, what _is_ all this?"

She grinned guiltily, then replied, " _This_..." she gestured around her, "is one of the few times you'll see me get excited about shopping. I was almost as bad as a trophy wife with an platinum credit chit." She turned to Wrex.

"I know you prefer the Sokolov line, but I couldn't find one, and I figured the Armageddon is the next best thing."

"It's almost as good," the krogan answered gruffly, gazing at his new weapon with admiration.

"True," she said, handing another package to Tali as she spoke, "but the shot cluster isn't quite as tight, so you don't get quite as much damage out of it. It's accurate as hell, though, and you get more shots before you have to vent the heatsink." She smiled, "Personally, if it doesn't kill in one shot, I don't want it."

"Consider this all an early yule-gift," she said, pointing to a small stack in the corner, "and that's yours over there." I approached with curiosity, listening to Tali _ooh_ over the HMWSG she had uncovered. What I found in my own pile was an HMWAR, my own Savant omni-tool, and a full set of Colossus armor. I looked at the collection in awe, saying, "You didn't skimp on anything, did you? Everyone got top-of the line stuff."

She held up another case sheepishly, exposing an HMWSR. "I almost gave this to you instead, but I figured Jerlah might get jealous."

"Yeah, she's already threatening to misfire because of your Harpoon. She's gonna completely rebel when she has to compete with a Master-level sniper rifle."

"So hitting the range after all this is over so you can try it out would be too much for her, huh?"

I was quick to assuage her obviously-contrived and unfounded fears. "She'll survive. And the assault rifle is a dream come true, you crazy woman."

Tali looked over from her own set of Colossus armor, saying, "You seem pretty confident we are on the winning team, Shepard."

"Are you kidding? We've survived Audry II wannabees, a simulation program run by Gunny Hartman, and batarians intent on recreating _Deep Impact_. We've taken a racial hodgepodge crew and turned them into a cohesive team; maybe even a dysfunctional family, one lost sister non-withstanding." She chuckled sadly, and softly, at herself before saying, "I'm no good at speeches, guys. But here's what it comes down to: when you've got people to depend on, life's easier, and that's all there is to it. That's a lesson it's taken me a long time to learn. Soveriegn is sooooo going down, because we're _too kickass_ to let him get away with whatever he has planned." She stood determinedly, saying, "Now go suit up, and get to the cockpit."

Pressly, a strange face to see in this crowd, held a hand out for Tali's HMWSG while she stood, cocking it idly. "So, who's going, Commander?"

"Why, you volunteering?" There was none of the teasing lilt to her response, as I would have expected, but a seriousness that indicated how much she respected him as a soldier.

"In a heartbeat, Shepard. But I'm sure there are others you would rather have at your back, and who would serve you better."

"Pressly," she began, becoming even more serious, if that were even possible, "you've served just as well as any other person here." She gestured to the room absently, chewing her lip as she considered the original question.

"Oh, c'mon Shepard. Stop playing around," came Kaidan's voice from the doorway. He stepped forward, wincing at the brighter light, "You know Vakarian is going."

She sighed with great exaggeration. "Well, _you're_ not. You're no good to me like this. Get some rest, 'cause I have a sneaking suspicion your diplomatic skills will come in handy after we're done. Spirits know I don't have crap in that department when it comes to the Council; or Udina, for that matter."

She turned back to the room at large. "Liara, you stay. It's not that I don't have faith in your skills, but you're one of the few of us that have a real rapport with the rest of the crew. Be their backup. Garrus, you're going with me. I need my sniping buddy."

I looked to the last two, Wrex and Tali, only to catch a worried look from over the quarian's shoulder. The XO stood there, still holding her shotgun, waiting the Commander's decision. Teandra didn't miss it either, because she snorted as she said, "Tali, you're Pressly's second-in-command. Keep our girl safe."

 _You talking about Tali keeping the_ Normandy _safe, or Pressly keeping Tali out of trouble?_

In spite of the crew's belief that we read each other's minds sometimes, Shepard didn't clarify. Only said, "Suit up. Cockpit. 20 Minutes."

* * *

A quick detour downstairs to retrieve my other gear, and I hit the showers. As the water poured over me and rinsed away the results of my exertions, I rested my head against the metal wall, thinking more about the last few days than the upcoming battle.

Teandra...I just wasn't sure what to make of her. If I were truthful, it had been that way since day one, due to her infuriating tendency to hold herself back. Always shifting, forever changing. One minute we were friends: comfortable and secure. The next, we were being pulled inevitably towards each other like opposite poles of a magnet, drawn by a heated spark. Yet, those contrasting aspects of her, and our relationship, were part of the appeal.

Savior and murderer. Protector and victim. Warrior, flirt, and cynic. Orphan, gun aficionado, and friend... Well, more than a friend to me, if I were honest. But she didn't believe in emotional attachments, and I wasn't some lovesick suitor. I was a warrior in my own right, and had participated in more than my own share of trysts. She was not the only woman with which things had gotten heated, just the first human. Perhaps is was the exotic aspect that made her so appealing.

In spite of her views on romance, though, she gave things to me that she never gave Alenko. As her friend, I got her trust and her honesty. Was there potential for something more than what we had? Perhaps, if I wanted to pursue it. But the political implications were endless, not to mention the fact that the challenge of overcoming Teandra's barriers would strain our friendship greatly. Possibly even destroy it completely, in the end. And wasn't that the great part about what we had together? We were never lacking for _fun_ , always enjoyed our time together, whether shooting mercs or playing chess. To risk that for a title and a few physical perks? No. _Given the choice between comfortable friendship or strained lovers, I choose the former,_ I thought. Decision made, I turned off the water, toweling off.

I looked in the mirror, scanning my clan markings to make sure they didn't need reapplication as I donned my new suit over fresh clothes. _Fits like a glove_. Leave it to Shepard to choose comfort and protection.

Sighing, I dumped my laundry into the chute by the doorway, locked my weapons into their holsters, and grabbed my helmet. Stepping out, I pointed my feet towards the cockpit, finally allowing myself to get excited about the battle as my adrenaline kicked in.

 _It's time_.


	24. Prelude to an Ass-Kicking

**Chapter 24- Prelude to an Ass-Kicking**

I hate being wrong. Always have, always will. Not a very admirable trait, according to many, but it had served me well enough. Gave me the drive to leave no stone unturned, no lead left neglected, always questing for the truth. For the most part, I'd gone my entire life without ever having to admit that I was wrong about anything.

When it came to Teandra, though, it seemed like I spent most of my time doing just that. However, only _she_ would see fit to force me to admit it twice within a single week. It really shouldn't have shocked me, given her flair for accomplishing the impossible, but it did. First, she terrifies me when she kills Finch, then she completely dwarfs the fear I felt at that moment by having a _giant ship_ fall on her head. Forcing me to admit the Finch situation had scared the hell out of me had been bad enough; making me admit that there was something out there that could possibly frighten me even more was worse. I _never_ wanted to experience the feeling again, to wonder if she were alive or dead.

To have her rise from the wreckage, triumphant, grinning at me like I was the most awesome thing ever was perhaps one of the greatest moments of my life. Dramatically, and completely in Teandra style, she had stood erect and grinned at Anderson, Wrex, and I, saying, "What? You guys look like someone died or something." She appeared completely unharmed, save a possibly broken arm, right until we reached the stairs. Then, my joy at her survival was closely followed by panic as she collapsed into my arms, completely unconscious. The medical team snatched her from me immediately, expertly inserting an IV almost before I could say her name, spouting jargon about dehydration and physical stress.

I looked at the prone form on the hospital bed in front of me, still hooked up to tubes and wires that monitored her vital signs. I was briefly amused by the idea that a machine could do my job better than I could before the beeping reminded me of where I was and why. I had finally managed to force Kaidan from her side, not quite at gunpoint, so that he could get some much-needed sleep. She'd only been down for a few days, but sitting at a bedside saps your energy. Unfortunately, personal experience was the reason I was so intimately familiar with that sensation.

" _You do realize I'm going to be fine, right?" The once great warrior that I called "Mother" laughed from her bed. "You worry too much,_ pika-pooka. _If I can survive Shanxi, I can survive some little disease."_

 _The reference to that part of her military career made me bristle._ " _Almost beating some soft, weak species doesn't..."I began tersely, stopping only as I caught the look on her face._

" _I don't care_ what _your father says," Mother countered sternly, "our enemies fought with honor. Don't let his misguided opinion change yours."_

_Rather than wasting precious time arguing, I took her hand while forcing a smile, just glad this was one of her good days. One of the days when she clearly remembered who she was, and precisely who it was she was talking to._

" _I won't, Mom. Don't worry."_

I stared at Teandra again, that same small smile playing at my mandibles. I may have been able to view people as individuals instead of representatives of their whole species because of some half-hearted promise to my fading mother, but that's not what gave it conviction. Even with my partner, Shelaya, I had always figured she was the exception to humanity's prejudices. She had been a lot like Ash, adamant about her principles and tough as nails. The one major difference between them (other than the striking contrast in hair color) had been my partner's thing for drell.

Unbidden, other memories from the night I lost my partner flooded my head. Getting dragged out of bed in the middle of the night-cycle, wondering why it was Eddie Lang of all people who had called me instead of Shelaya. My good-natured grumbling to Eddie that when I found out why she was AWOL, she was going to owe me the biggest cup of _tisane_ one could find at a food stall. Then, worst of all, finding out the hard way, without warning, just why she hadn't called...

The fact that I strongly suspected it had been her boyfriend that had pushed her into the line of fire... While my theory was complete conjecture from an investigative standpoint, it didn't stop me from _knowing_ it was true. If I could have proven it, that slimy little amphibian would have been on the way to a maximum security prison frigate long ago. Cop killers don't do well in court hearings.

Instead, they'd labeled it a suicide by drug dealer. Called her crazy for confronting a dangerous criminal alone, with no backup, nevermind the fact that such an action was completely out of character.

Suicide.

I knew Shepard was a persuasive little thing, but talking anyone, let alone a barefaced turian, into killing himself? That was a new one, even for her. It had impressed the hell out of me and Wrex, to say the least, and _nothing_ impressed that krogan. Which was good, considering how irritated I was she had sacrificed so many soldiers lives to save the Council. Intellectually, I understood her reasoning, but that didn't stop me from feeling like those fools deserved the hand fate had dealt them before she had stepped in.

Leave it to my little Spectre to turn everyone's expectations upside down, yet again. Even mine, which was why I had a feeling that as long as Teandra was around, the Reapers were screwed.

At least when the redeemed turian (and I use that phrase loosely because no matter what tradition dictated, his honor would never be restored in my eyes) had jumped up, reanimated by his former master, Shepard had stopped humming that damn movie tune. I suppose that bastard was good for something, after all.

Then again, I guess that's what I got for going along with her game.

" _Anybody else wanna negotiate?" A loud crack to my left punctuated her statement, causing me to snort._

" _C'mon, Shepard. How about a challenge?"_

_She chambered a fresh round as she queried, "So what's the movie, then, smart-ass?"_

"The Fifth Element. _My turn. 'Come back with you shield, or on it.'"_

" _You_ always _quote that one._ 300 _. So predictable," She muttered, then launched into her next quote before I could rebutt her accusation. "A knight is sworn to valor." I had to think about that one a minute._

"Dragonheart, _" I finally dredged from my memory. It took me a second to recollect my thoughts to counter, time I used to head-shot the nearest geth defender. Stalling for a moment longer, I put Jerlah away, swapping her for the HMWAR before finally producing a new quote. "Because it's dull, you idiot. It'll hurt more."_

 _To my credit, she actually had to think about that one for a good bit, muttering something about 'British accents' before crying, "_ Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves! _Duh! That should_ not _have taken so long."_

" _I won't kill you, but I don't have to save you," was her next gem as we came around a corner, posting up as a geth dropship blocked our path._

" _That's from the superhero movie, right?_ Batman Begins."

" _Damn," she said as she hacked a nearby turret, which began firing at the vessel in our way. "That was the best I had."_

" _Well how about this one?" The machines had started to move forward as the turret pounded at the ship's shields, so I continued to fire as I spoke, "Come to the dark side..."_

" _ **No fair!"**_ _she interrupted vehemently, "That's in two different movies!"_

" _...we have fish sticks," I finished, chortling at her indignation. I trained my scope on a geth's exploding head while I awaited her answer._

 _Looking slightly chagrined, she mirrored my shot as she countered, "Damn._ The Krogan Emissary, _then." She fell silent as the rhythmic crack of sniper rounds was interrupted by Wrex's steady shotgun blasts at any machine stupid enough to come closer than 50 feet. Damn, that Armageddon really_ was _accurate as hell._

" _So, what was the other movie?"_

 _She stopped, pulling back into cover to stare at me with mouth slightly agape, before exclaiming, "I never showed you_ Star Wars? _NO WAY!"_ _She tapped her omni-tool, which began playing an upbeat, brassy tune. I shook my head, indicating it didn't ring a bell._

" _That's it! This battle is_ _ **on hold**_ _until we can watch it!" A final shot from the cannon punctuated her proclamation, forcing the drop-ship to fly away. Geth corpses carpeted the the ground between us and our goal._

" _Shepard," came Wrex's voice to our right, "I don't think Saren's going to wait." The krogan had borne our back-and-forth patiently. Just once had he gotten exasperated at our youthful exuberance, saying, "Only you would be playing a game while the end of the world was coming down on our heads."_

_Smirking lazily as she shot a geth in the foot, forcing it to crawl towards us, she began singing, "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine..." Her response to the more recent statement, however, was to shut off the music with a playfully sulky look on her face, replying, "Fine, but we have a date with the projector later, Vakarian."_

" _Well, if it'll make you feel any better, Shepard, I'll be happy to rip someone's arm off and beat them to death with it." She had giggled uncontrollably at Wrex's words, weaving her way through the fallen geth that covered our route, before humming the movie tune non-stop._

The image of her laughing like a little girl while surrounded by so much carnage caused me to chuckle. While a very small part of me found it disturbing, it was _also_ just her style. The sound, small as it was, must have woken her up, as she opened her eyes right then, staring at me for a second.

"Garrus?" She started to sit up, wincing as she did so.

"Hey there, little Spectre." Smiling, I moved to help her sit upright, ignoring her efforts to wave me off. "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I still feel like shit."

"Yeah, well, that's to be expected." My eyes roved over her bandages, the small one on her forehead and the matching ones on her right bicep the only ones present besides the bulky cast on her left arm.

She must have taken my straying gaze as a negative sign, because she grumbled, "So how bad is it, really? No one will give me a mirror."

Given my previous revelations on our relationship, I wasn't sure how to answer without complicating things further. Finally, I decided to do what I always did in these situations: I made a joke. "You were never cute enough to be a turian, Shepard. But you'll do for a human."

"Ha, ha, ha. I get a giant ship dropped on my head and all you can say is 'you were always ugly?' Thank you so much, Mr. Sensitivity."

"I try."

Her playful smile dissolved into a grimace of genuine concern as she asked quietly, "How long did the doc say I'd be out?"

Earlier, while she'd slept, the attending on duty had explained that Teandra had several injuries besides her busted arm, not the least of which was her freshly re-damaged left shoulder, a souvenir originally picked up on Akuze. On top of that, there were multiple other fractures and abrasions, plus acute dehydration caused by the copious amounts of alcohol in her system.

"Not too much longer. We were really just waiting for you to wake up for a longer period of time. The cast is coming off tonight, but you'll have a sling on your arm for a few more days after it does. They're using the best medical advances on you, though, so you might even heal up faster." I stopped, grinning as I went on, "Don't worry. You'll be better in time for them to pin you with a bunch of medals while they splash your face all over the vids."

She groaned at this news, just as I knew she would, and whined, "Shut up. I'm sick. That's a valid enough excuse to get out of a few dozen award cermonies, right?"

"The galaxy needs its heroes, Teandra."

"And _I_ need a vacation," she shot back irritably. "I saved the galaxy, what more do they want?" She stopped for a minute, wincing as she sat up more fully.

"Screw that noise. They get me for three days. After that, I'm kidnapping the whole crew to the Argus Rho cluster. I've got an apartment with a kick-ass sound system there. _I'm_ going to go get drunk off my ass and party like there's no tomorrow."

"You?" I raised an eyeridge, "Drink in public? _Voluntarily?_ "

"That's why you're tagging along, wise-ass. I told you I was the fucking-or-fighting type. So Kaidan can handle one..."

"...and I can handle the other. I got it." I mulled that over for half a second, then waggled my eyeridges suggestively as I said, "Do I get to choose which one I deal with?"

I never realized hospital pillows could hurt so much when used as projectiles. Leave it to the commander to teach me something new while practically in traction.

* * *

My pulse raced, eyes locked on the display in front of me. It was one I would never have expected to see, and that fiercely challenged my decision to keep the physical aspect of my relationship with Teandra off-limits.

Joker, in a completely unforeseen show of skill, was apparently quite proficient in some weird sort of human music called 'rap'. While it wasn't so different from some of the screamer singers of turian bands (except you could understand the lyrics much more clearly), it was a completely foreign concept to me. What had thrown us all for a loop was him asking for Teandra to join him in a duet. Grinning maniacally, he had started the music as Teandra downed another straight shot of rum. The second bottle was almost gone, in addition to countless shots, which clearly explained why she had wanted me to play her keeper. She partied _hard_ when she actually allowed herself to let loose, and the fact that she trusted _me_ to keep her from doing anything stupid was not lost on me.

Which meant that being halfway through a bottle of imported Invictus whiskey myself was probably not the greatest strategy for keeping inhibitions in check. As the music beat through the speakers, Teandra looked at Joker, intoning with the music, "Am I throwing you off?"

"Nope."

"Didn't think so."

What followed was a song about a man and a woman having a verbal tug-of-war, him urging her to bed and her urging him to consider something more before admitting to their attraction. However, I couldn't repeat the lyrics if I tried, something I was usually quite adept at. The reason for this could only be blamed on the alcohol in that it made Teandra seem as if she were singing her lyrics directly to _me_. Her partner, rather you meant Joker or Kaidan, was not where her eyes lay as she sang.

 

_I'm a big girl_

_I can handle myself_

_But if I get lonely_

_I might need your help_

_Pay attention to me I don't talk for my health_

 

Joker, seeming greatly amused by the whole situation, inserted his own line.

 

_I want you on my team_

 

Her dismissal was evident as she continued:

 

_So does everybody else._

 

Her hands wandered over her own body as she moved, bringing attention to her already nearly-naked frame as she closed her eyes for a moment, lost within the song. Sensuality rippled off her in waves, catching the attention of every male in the room, regardless of species. But somehow, when she reopened them, they found their way directly back to my own rapt gaze.

 

_I can see you with nothin' on_

_Feelin' on me before you bring that on_

 

What in the hell was she doing? I managed to yank my gaze over to Alenko, who was too busy staring himself to notice where her attention lay. Then, of their own accord, I felt my own eyes move back to her as she started singing again.

 

_I'm only trying to get inside of you brain_

_See if you can work me the way you say_

_Promiscuous Boy_

_I'm calling your name_

_But you're driving me crazy_

_The way you're making me wait_

 

My resolve was wavering somewhat, feeding off of the obvious lust in her voice and body language. Her hips moved in a way that was clearly similar to _other_ activities, manipulating my brain into forming pictures of her in a variety of similar scenarios. I had _iron_ self control, a requirement for mating within the turian species, but damn if this girl didn't test it every chance she got. I almost liked it better when I was under her radar. Her hand skimmed across her bare midriff as it traveled up her body to push through her fiery locks before she began singing again.

I swallowed. _Then again, maybe not..._

 

_Promiscuous Boy_

_We're one in the same_

_So we don't gotta play games no more_

 

 _Who the fuck is playing games, Teandra? Because I don't think it's me._ As the final beats of the song wound down, so did her hands, looking as if they were going to land on an area I was pretty sure was just as inappropriate in human culture as my own, only to change course at the last moment to splay across the flare of her hips, which were now cocked to the side. She was still looking at me all the while, and I could swear she was going to say something (probably sarcastic), but whatever she was going to do was unceremoniously preempted by a very tipsy asari tackling her and showering her with praise. Liara's tackle-hug-thing was quickly followed by one from Tali, who, while not nearly as drunk as the rest of us, was doing her share of unsteady walking as she urged her two friends to help her pick out another song.

Slightly out of breath from the routine, but still laughing at my open-mouthed gape, Joker came over and plopped into the seat next to me.

"So THAT's why she doesn't drink… Spirits, how in the _hell_ does someone... I mean..." I commented rather eloquently, still slightly in awe of the graceful and semi-animalistic display.

Snickering mischievously, Kaidan bragged, "You ought to see her in other settings." His eyes wandered to where the girls were poring over their omni-tools for another song absently. Still reeling from the obviously primal display, I couldn't help but think, _I'm pretty sure I just did._

"Hell, yeah. I'll show you the video later Vakarian." Joker's tone was nonchalant, but the gleam in his eye was anything but.

Kaidan's head snapped to the pilot, who was sporting his ever present half-grin. "You're lying. No way you managed to film us before we hit the relay."

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to her green lace panties."

I shook my head forcefully to keep the image from planting itself in my mind any more insistently than it already was. "You made a video?"

"Of COURSE I made a video! Do you have ANY clue what something like that would go for at Fornax? 'The Supremely Hot Commander Shepard Exposed…'" Kaidan's arms crossed, an attempt not to rise to Joker's bait, looking away to compose himself. The pilot used the distraction to wink in my direction. I laughed, still unsure if he were being truthful or just screwing with the biotic, and decided to screw with him in turn.

Putting on a straight face, I commented mildly, "You do realize it's illegal to video tape someone without their express permission, right? I could arrest you." This seemed to make Kaidan feel better, as his grin snapped back into place. Joker, on the other hand, was non-plussed.

"Aw, c'mon, Vakarian! If you do that, you can't watch the vid."

"Not if I confiscated the evidence." My slightly tipsy brain considered this further, but I was spared from the thought by the sound of music coming from the girls' direction again. The sound of some haunting wind-instrument wafted from the speakers of the sound system and both Tali and Liara whooped when they heard it. Simultaneously, both women jumped up from their seats, joining Teandra in singing the introduction.

 

_I'm tellin' you to loosen up my buttons babe_

_But you keep frontin'_

 

Forcefully, I was reminded of the one night when Shepard had managed to get us all into the same club. Ash, Tali, Teandra, and Liara, three of which were drunk off their ass (the redhead, understandably, the only sober one of the bunch) had been singing some song from her outdated collection:

 

_Hey, sista… go sista… let me hear your flow, sista..._

 

The soldier would have loved to be here, and her absence from the _Normandy_ female contingent was a gaping hole in the proceedings.

This morbid train of thought was interrupted as Joker went on, "Hey, there they go again. You're really gonna want to see this, Plate-Face." The trio of women began dancing seductively in tandem, though I personally thought the quarian and asari needed some work to catch up with Teandra. Then again, I _might_ be a little biased. What was worse was the fact that she had probably learned the skills while training to kill someone, and I wasn't sure if that aroused me or scared me. Or, Spirits forbid, _both._

"Trust me on this, Garrus," the pilot piped up, shamelessly oogling the girls from his seat next to me. " _Many_ men have come to appreciate the joys of human women and alcohol."

Little did he know just how accurate that statement would prove to be by the end of the night.


	25. Assumptions

**Chapter 25- Assumptions**

There are many ways one can wake up in the morning. Some good, some bad, some downright _awful_. Waking up wrapped in the arms of your semi-naked best friend may either be the best or the worst way to start your day ever. It all depends on the context. Which made the fact that I couldn't remember a damn thing about how I wound up in my room, mostly naked, with Garrus sleeping (passed out?) beside me in bed all the more panic-inducing.

After a quick assessment of my surroundings I managed to piece together a few things. One, I wasn't in _my_ room. Two, my left wrist was handcuffed to the headboard. Three, I was actually still wearing my bra and panties, so I wasn't completely nude. And four, I wasn't entirely sure my initial assumption that Garrus was only _mostly_ naked was correct.

 _How much did I fucking drink last night?_ Since the first time I'd ever imbibed, no matter what happened, no matter how much I drank, I had _never_ blacked out. Whenever someone told me they couldn't remember anything from long periods of intoxication, I had laughed at them. Now, it appeared it was finally happening to me, which made absolutely no sense. At _all_. I had drunk a _krogan_ under the table very early in my military career. Regardless of prior ability to the contrary, whenever I tried to recall events from the last twelve hours, there was nothing. _Nothing._ Except. . .

 _Ohfuckohfuckohfuck..._ _the dance... I_ _ **knew**_ _better. I_ _ **never**_ _should have flirted with that bartender at_ Lapsus _._ Half my drinks had been on the house, I remembered that much. Kaidan hadn't skimped on his own share of purchases for me, either. _Smarmy bastard thought he'd get laid twice in one week._ Still, I'd played his game, and if I'd been singing "U + Ur Hand" in the back of my head the entire time, **he'd** have been none the wiser.

None of that changed the fact that I hadn't planned on screwing around with, or screwing, Garrus. Assuming that was what we had done. The dance had been my lame attempt at messing with him, but I'd allowed the rum to take control of my imagination. By the time I was done, it had been his hands that had roamed my body instead of my own. It wasn't as if I wasn't _attracted_ to the man I'd been performing for. It's just... it seemed selfish and _wrong_ to manipulate him like I did every other man in my life. The pure power trip that I fed off of when I used my skills to change the thoughts of the people around me seemed too dishonorable to use on him. He was probably the only person I'd ever known that had faced all my demons basically head on, and barely even blinked. But in the end, I would always be too jaded to let anyone all the way in. I was a cynic when it came to love, and he was a romantic. A poor combination, and not a fair thing to inflict on him. He was too good a person, too good a _man_ for that.

Contemplations aside, regular morning needs called. In spite of how comfortable I was, damn if I didn't have to pee. I glanced around, momentarily nonplussed by the notion that I may have to check to see if he _were_ completely naked under the sheet in order to find my prize, before finally spying it on the nightstand.

On _his_ side of the bed.

_If we manage to get out of this with our friendship intact, I'm keeping a master key with me from now on._

I stared at the object as if I could **will** it into my hands. _I think that chick from_ Gerald's Game _had it easy..._ _How the hell do I get to that without waking him up?_

I half-heartedly reached over his sleeping form, knowing there was no way I'd ever be able to touch it, and was rewarded by the shifting bed causing Garrus to stir. Not enough to actually wake up, but enough to wrap one claw around my waist, snuggling me into him as he wrapped an arm over me. Yelping softly, I realized that my fears about his state of undress were (thankfully) mostly wrong. I sighed, allowing myself a brief moment of weakness as I pulled myself closer into his hold, knowing I was going to have to try to set things right when he finally _did_ wake up.

The sad part was, deep down, part of me wanted to just say, " _Fuck it,"_ and let things run their course. But... I wouldn't betray him that way. Our friendship was too important to devolve into him being just another notch on my _very_ worn bedpost.

The irony of the matter, I thought as I ignored the small discomfort of necessary bodily functions, was that being in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

" _I'm so not a snuggler..."_ I had told him. The truth? I actually thoroughly enjoyed the physical contact. I just didn't fucking trust anyone enough to fall asleep with them next to me. I usually kept one hand on my switchblade in my sleep, and it was even within reach during sex, a fact that would terrify many of my past partners if they knew.

Old habits die hard, I guess.

Speaking of which, where was that damn thing? I spied my clothes in the corner. They hadn't been the most difficult thing to take off that I owned, at least not the top I had been wearing. It was a loose silk piece of art that only saw the light of day when I partied, low cut and slit down the sides in a way that left little to the imagination. The jeans would have taken an effort to remove, due to how tightly they fit me, and the fact that they were still in one piece made it pretty clear _I_ had been the one to remove them. Another deduction about the proceedings of the night before. The fact that I still maintained at least a few garments made me suspect that things may not have gone too far. And yet, if that were the case, why had Garrus stayed?

 _You're in_ his _room, idiot. Where else was he going to go? You locked your room down tight before you went out, remember?_

Just what the hell had I done to this poor guy? We'd been working so hard at NOT screwing this up. Then again, he **had** been the one I'd slated to keep me from doing anything stupid when we realized the _Normandy_ wasn't up for the trip to the Argus Rho cluster, and my apartment. _Oh god, there were all kinds of people at the hotel bar... and I basically did a strip tease without the stripping for_ all _of them._ One batarian had been staring like a lunatic, and most of them hated humans to their core. And that volus...

 _Oh, god damn_ it! I almost would have laughed if it wasn't so embarrassing. The vids in the morning would probably have me plastered (great choice of words, that) all over them, including my little almost-burlesque show. _Hey, I warned them all this might happen. Can't say that I didn't._ Part of me had enjoyed cutting loose, I had to admit, but the solid, comfortable warmth at my back negated any good that could have come out of that.

 _Why_ was it really so bad, if things had gotten a little out of control? Kaidan? Nah. He was just another obsessed guy, one I held very few actual feelings for. The fact that Garrus was a turian? No, because I'd never given a damn about anyone's species.

So... why did I care so much?

"Because he deserves better than me," I muttered to myself, only then realizing that Garrus' breathing had changed.

* * *

###

* * *

The warm girl snuggled up to me wasn't nearly as warm as she should have been. In spite of that, I groggily reached up to bring her closer, figuring maybe that would account for the temperature change. What I hadn't counted on was encountering skin that was MUCH too soft. The fact that my hand was now cupping something even softer than _that_ completely woke me from all sense of security.

 _What in the fuck? BY THE DAMN SPIRITS!_ Memory came flooding back almost immediately, and instinctively, I kept my eyes shut. I kept them shut because as long as I couldn't see her, or her reaction, everything would be okay. Cowardly, I know, but self-preservation does funny things to a man.

 _Stop acting like an adolescent and man up,_ part of my mind scolded. _You're both adults._

The other, less coherent part of my brain countered with _, Yes, we're both adults, but only one of us was tasked with keeping the other one out of trouble, and I sort of fucked it up._

 _And shit happens. You can't avoid her forever._ I took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't kill me before I could explain.

 _Play it off. Just play it off as a joke_. "Good morning, gorgeous. Uh, how did you sleep?"

Her response was a hand in my face and a single word uttered: "Key." I couldn't decipher her mood from such a short response, so I did as she asked, groggily managing to recall it's location. She applied the piece of metal to the lock, removing the restraining band. Then she rolled away from me, elbowing me in the gut as she did so.

 _I suppose I deserved that,_ I thought as I rolled onto my front, managing to gasp out, "Wow, you're not a morning person are you?" She ignored my jab, frantically trying to cover herself with the sheet without exposing my lower body at the same time.

Her embarrassment at the situation was kind of cute, all things considered.

"I _thought_ you were supposed to keep me from doing anything stupid," she said angrily, glaring at me.

"Since when am I stupid?" I knew the joke was lame, but it was the best I could do in my hungover state. "And in my defense, you made that rather hard." The look on her face told me the double meaning hadn't been lost on her, and that she was none too pleased with my attitude.

"You know what I mean, asshole."

I had gotten used to her use of the turian phrase, as she'd gotten in the habit of using it more often than not. Her using human slang was very telling, and it made me nervous.

 _Very_ nervous.

_Play it cool. Gather more information before you make a plan of action._

"What do you remember about last night?" I asked, genuinely curious about how the woman handled the _two_ bottles of rum, plus various mixed drinks, she'd downed with no overt signs of damage to her system. I didn't even think a _krogan_ would have been able to drink that much and still remain standing, much less the petite woman sitting across from me.

"Not much beyond the bar," she admitted almost sheepishly. " _That_ I remember more clearly than I want to."

"Like the asari that tried to make out with you?"

"Unfortunately. I've never been a Katy Perry fan after all, even if I've had to pretend to be one for missions on occasion."

"You're going to have to explain that one, Teandra." The fact that we were both down to our underwear, talking about her hitting on some asari chick, should have been way more uncomfortable than it was, but oddly, it wasn't. And, since she wasn't trying to kill me, far be it from me to interrupt her to say so.

"Katy Perry. Wrote a song about two girls kissing."

"I was actually more interested in the missions part of that statement. The song thing I could infer."

"You didn't think all the gang leaders were _male,_ did you?"

"So, wait a minute..." I wasn't sure before that statement if lesbianism was as much a social taboo as it was in my own culture, but the fact that she had a mischievous glint in her eyes when she said it made me pretty sure _she_ , at the very least, thought of it as something naughty. "You seduced your way into another woman's bedroom?"

" _Bedrooms._ Plural. And there was usually a third partner, if memory serves..."

"And if _my_ memory serves, you were there to kill them. So the third person...?"

"Had a really good time before he died?" She said with humor, in spite of the subject matter. "Damn it, it is still _way_ too early in the morning for this shit." She stopped for a minute, as if realizing where she was again, and growled, "You asshole, stop changing the subject! We were talking about your screw up, not my supposed sexual preferences."

"No, that was part of our discussions last night, actually." I laughed in spite of myself. A dangerous move, all things considered, but since I currently knew where her switchblade was hidden, I _did_ have a small sense of security. "And I'm pretty sure it's past noon, so it's not morning anymore."

She shook her head, somewhat disarmed by the comfortable back-and-forth banter, and I chuckled again at her shifting emotions. It was quite plain she had _no idea_ what had occurred once we left the bar, a fact that I wasn't sure if I was grateful for or not. Unbidden, a phrase from one of Shepard's favorite movies came to mind. A man, saying in an Irish accent, _We've gotta fuck with him._ That quote cemented my decision: I was _not_ going to tell her one way or another what had happened. Not yet.

She must have read the resolution in my face, because she intoned, "You aren't going to give me the details, are you? Then fuck you, I gotta pee." She stood, dragging the blanket with her, then stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of my shorts.

Smirking for the first time since the whole conversation had started, she raised auburn-colored eyebrow at me. "Pink sniper rifles? Really?"

Her sarcastic tone made me defensive, though why exactly, I couldn't say. "Hey, I'll have you know they're red."

"No, they're _pink_." She smirked as she started to cross her arms, only to lose the expression about the same time she lost her grip on the sheet. Laughing, I snagged the trailing end, almost uncovering her completely. She shot a glare at me, and I reneged in favor of discussing my underwear.

"Red," I said insistently. "They're my favorites, so they've been washed a lot."

"So what you're saying is that they're actually _lightish_ -red."

I must have missed the sarcasm in her voice at the time, because I responded, "Exactly."

She barked with laughter a moment before saying, almost sounding as if she were quoting something, "They already have a color for that. It's pink." It would be almost a year later before I would have any idea what she found so amusing.

"So, what? I don't see the big deal. Yours are silver."

The grip she had on the edges of the sheet tightened as she tried to pull them more tightly around her. "Why are you looking, you perv?"

"They're SHINY. They kind of catch the eye." What I had no intention of telling her was I'd already gotten more than an eyeful the night before, about the time she was throwing herself at me. Plating or no plating, I'm pretty sure she might find a way to remove some body parts I was rather attached to if I brought that up at that moment. "While we're on the subject, what's _your_ excuse for staring at my groin?"

Her hands instantly flew over her eyes as she turned, promptly smacking into the wall in her attempt to get to the bathroom without embarrassing herself further.

"I knew that was there... yeah. Bathroom. Right." She actually managed to make her way into the adjoining room without any further incident, allowing me a good, long (albeit silent) chuckle at her expense without the threat of losing said body parts. When she came back, she had done away with the sheet in exchange for the robe provided by the hotel, and almost seemed completely within her element again. Well, except for the permanent flush that had colored her face since she'd woken up.

"You could have brought the sheet back, you know."

"Not a chance. I think I'm going to make you suffer until I get some information about why I woke up damn near unclothed in the arms of my half-naked best friend."

"Fine, your call. But I am a guy in a room with, how did you say, his _half-naked best friend._ If you get a show..." I emphasized my point by moving as if I meant to get up from the bed.

She fairly squeaked, "Okay, okay! I'm going." She blushed even harder and almost ran to the bathroom for the requested covering, her panic evident.

 _God, it's so fun to mess with her._ _Even if I know I'm going to pay for it later._ With that thought, I was suddenly back in front of the third-floor elevator, carrying a very drunk Teandra over my shoulder...

 _Giggling? Teandra Shepard did_ not _giggle. I must have hit my head when I fell against the door. "You're going to pay for that later, Little Spectre."_

_More giggling. "Is that a promise?"_

" _And now I'm ignoring you."_

" _Aw, poor Plate-Face. Letting a puny little girl get the best of him!"_

 _ **Now who's getting the best of whom**_ , I thought with an evil grin, a look she saw as she returned for the second time. She tossed the sheet at me, plopping back down on the other side of the massive bed (as far away from me as she could manage while still remaining on the mattress) before fixing me with her stern gaze.

"Okay, no more games. Spill." Her tone was quiet, all of the vehemence and teasing from earlier conspicuously absent.

Sighing, I shook my head and relented, filling in the holes in her memory.


	26. But Here's What Actually Happened...

**Chapter 26- But Here's What** _**Actually** _ **Happened...**

She'd been in no condition to try and get back to her room alone, and I wasn't about to let her try. I knew her well enough to know that she'd either wind up heading for Kaidan's room to take advantage of his drunken incapacitation, or breaking down some random person's door in her inebriated state.

 _Fucking, or fighting._ That's what she had said. Apparently, she hadn't been kidding when she warned me of that before we'd set out to "party like there was no tomorrow." Fortunately, I knew her better than almost anyone, so deflecting her attempts to get herself into trouble had been nearly effortless.

Or, it had been, until we'd left _Lapsus_ , the hotel's bar. I hadn't anticipated her attempting to swim in the gigantic fountain in the hotel's lobby. That was definitely _not_ on the list of things I thought Teandra Shepard would ever do, drunk or not.

Not stopping to chuck my boots before doing so, I had followed her in, picking her up bodily, though she was soaked to the skin, and dragged her out again. I then attempted to set her down, only to have to throw her over my shoulder to keep her from running back toward the bar, for "just one more shot."

Somehow, though I'd packed away the better part of a bottle of whiskey myself, I'd managed to get both of us across the (now wet) tiled floor to the elevator without further incident.

"You _ben'jee_ , put me down!"

I chuckled slightly as I shifted her weight on my shoulder so I could brace myself against the side of the elevator car. "I would, if I didn't think you'd try to climb the walls and exit this thing through the ceiling!" I punched the button for our floor as she kicked her legs in an attempt to throw me off balance. Which, incidentally, was why I'd braced myself against the wall in the first place.

"I would never do something like that!" She was pounding her fists half-heartedly against my back now, which only managed to make me laugh outright.

"Oh, really?"

"Of course not! There's no tactical advantage in that, because I'd have no where to go once I got up there," she slurred.

My eyes rolled toward the ceiling of their own accord as I tightened my grip on the squirming human, silently urging the elevator to go faster. _Doesn't matter where you are on this damn station; all the elevators run at exactly the same speed._

Apparently dissatisfied with the lack of results from her previous attempt to dislodge herself from my shoulder, Shepard changed tactics. I found myself suddenly startled by small, human fingers playing across my fringe. I jumped slightly, but recovered quickly, and reached back with my free hand to swat at her wrist. The whole time, I refused to take my eyes off the changing numbers on the floor indicator. "Stop that," I hissed irritably.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration?" Even drunk, she couldn't resist a good movie quote. Her tone was one of almost lazy amusement as she tried to dance her fingers out of range, only to have them smacked thanks to my longer arms.

"Of course not," I lied, echoing her words from moments before. "It takes much more than that to distract me."

Though I couldn't see it, I could practically _feel_ her sly grin as she said, "I think I just heard a gauntlet drop."

Before I could respond, the elevator stopped on our floor. The doors hadn't even parted fully as I stepped out into the hallway, looking down the hall to the left first, then the right as I did so. I stopped in my tracks when I realized I couldn't remember which rooms were ours.

_Shit._

_Was mine 314 or 341? God damn that Invictus swill, messing with my brain. . ._

I was about to ask her if she could remember where we were staying when I felt the hem of my shirt being lifted and blunt fingernails scraping lightly across the back of my waist. I yelped at the unexpected sensation that action evoked and nearly reeled backwards into the now-shut doors to the lift. At the last possible moment, I twisted, and managed to avoid squishing Teandra by landing sideways against the vertical metal surface. Hard. A feminine giggle reached my ears before it was muffled by what I assumed was her own hand covering her mouth to stifle it.

Giggling? Teandra did _not_ giggle. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

"You're going to pay for that later."

More giggling. "Is that a promise?"

"And now I'm ignoring you."

"Aw, poor Plate-Face. Letting a puny little girl get the best of him!"

Making good on my word to ignore her, I pushed away from the wall and stood on increasingly unsteady legs as I tried to push through the alcohol-induced fog to find the information I needed.

 _I remember now. 314 was mine, because_ someone _wouldn't stop making comments about the irony._ Looking at the plaque on the wall indicating what rooms lay in which direction, I set off down the left-hand corridor.

 

* * *

 

_Thank the Spirits for hand-scanners._

Fishing around in my pockets for a key-card with my best friend draped over my shoulder would have been difficult at the best of times; knowing for a fact that she'd have volunteered to "help me find it" would have made it much, much harder.

And Spirits, that metaphor just went somewhere horrible.

The room was just as I'd left it. A good thing, because my tipsy brain was further addled by the continued (and escalating) advances of my partner. _What in the hell have I gotten myself into?_ The sparring matches, heated though they had gotten, I could handle. Her obviously provocative banter, I could handle. I could _even_ handle her little show downstairs, since I was ninety-eight percent sure the alcohol was to blame.

But her normally flirtatious manner coupled with her trying fiercely to get a rise out of me? (The Spirits take her for introducing me to the phrase "double entendre.") Her working so intently at pushing that self-control I was so proud of? Not so easy to dismiss. She was a dangerous little thing, and I was starting to wonder if _me_ being in charge of saving her from her own vices was Shepard's first attempt at building a "house in the Invictus jungle." Friendship or no, I wasn't enough of an idiot to deny the physical attraction between us, and drunk sex with a close friend never ends well. This, unfortunately, I knew from past experience, both personally and anecdoteally.

Past experiences aside, however, if she kept fucking touching my waist we were going to have a problem. What made it worse? She probably had _no damn idea_ how sensitive that area was to turian males. So, ironically, she was _accidentally_ screwing with my head in a way she couldn't have on purpose, mainly because it wouldn't have occurred to her to touch me there. After all, it hadn't come up in the sparring matches.

I weaved around the mine field of discarded clothing and armor on the floor of my temporary quarters, heading for the adjoining door that led to her room. That had been Shepard's idea, as she'd felt the close proximity was a better tactical decision in case of attack. While it seemed perfectly logical to me, it had been challenged by Tali, since Kaidan was on the fourth floor. The quarian had found that fact quite amusing, actually, considering our talk about "influences." That might explain why she was off keeping Joker occupied, much like Liara was tending to Kaidan's needs. I guess the was something to be said for drunken female solidarity.

And of course, since the Spirits seemed to enjoy making my life difficult, the adjoining door was locked. From her side. _Riza._

I briefly considered just breaking the damn thing down, but the image of security busting in to find her sopping wet and drunk in a turian's quarter's squelched that urge. That would _not_ be good for her image at all. Or my as-yet non-existent arrest record.

"So, you gonna put me down yet? Or are you _enjoying_ groping my ass right now? 'Cause I sure am." Another giggle, which I was starting to think of as background noise, found it's way from between her lips. Frustrated by the obstacles at every turn, I dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed, considering my options as I looked at her.

There was no getting around it. She was soaked, and sleeping in wet clothes would invite a drop in body temperature, which couldn't be good for her health. That, and I didn't want my bed getting wet once she managed to calm down enough to sleep, since I wasn't a huge fan of the cold myself. She was going to have to get out of her clothes. _Damn, did I_ actually _just think that?_ With timing best suited to comedic scripts, I looked down at myself to realize that I was soaked, too. _Damn it._ This was not good situation at _**all**_ **.**

 _I can't believe I'm about to say this._ "Teandra, we need to get you into something dry. You're going to freeze half to death."

"HA! I knew I'd get you to undress me in the end, Garrus."

I planted my face in my hands, taking a few breaths to steady my nerves and my hormones. I heard the springs creak as Shepard jumped up and rushed the door with a laugh, heading to Spirit's knew where. I wasn't waiting to find out. I reached an arm out, blocking her as I snatched her up and redeposited her on the bed. Crossing my arms, I sighed in exasperation.

"Teandra, will you _please_ stop trying to get away? You're making it very hard to figure out what in the hell I'm going to do about all this." I gestured at the room in general, indicating the whole situation.

Her smile could only be described as sultry as she laid back on the bed. She then stretched her arms over her head, a move that caused her to expose even more of her abdomen as she said, "Well, if you need instructions, I'm pretty sure I can oblige. I would have thought you had more experience with that, though."

 _I swear, she keeps this up, I'm locking her in a closet somewhere until she's sober._ "Will you please _shut up?"_

She rolled over onto her stomach and laid her chin on the heel of her palm, eyes cast upward as she appeared to mull something over before saying, "Hmmm... nope. Not gonna happen."

I threw my head up in exasperation, a moment of inattentiveness she exploited to make another break for the door. Again, I caught her just before she reached it, this time yanking her backwards by the wide, white belt looped through the waistband of her pants. This drew her back flush with me, giving me a chance to grab her wandering hands and pull them to her sides. "You're worse than some of the perps I've chased over the years, Teandra. And I'm starting to think you deserve similar treatment."

She looked back at me over her shoulder as she quipped huskily, "If you treated them rough, you're on."

 _That's it_. I spun her around to face me and shoved her back toward the middle of the room. "I'm done playing. Out of those clothes and under the covers. And _no_ remarks about anything remotely sexual."

She pouted, and I wondered if she was going to try to make for the door when her face split into a grin. She began removing her shirt slowly, making the action seem like an extension of her display from downstairs. The mantra of ' _this is a bad idea'_ was playing through my head in earnest now. Especially considering the fact that my eyes instantly latched on the undergarment she was wearing.

Her sparring outfits would, on occasion, involve a top that left her midriff exposed, something she called a 'yoda' top or something. This... whatever it was she was wearing, looked like someone had taken that and chopped off most of the material. _Joker had it wrong. Green wouldn't be nearly as good a color as the silver. In fact, it looks kind of like turian skin coloring... STOP thinking about that. Focus, you drunk_ ben'jee.

Focus, however, was becoming more difficult as she reached down to unbutton her jeans.

" _Wait_. You can keep those on."

"Oh, no. Jeans retain moisture quite well. They need to come... off too." She tried to play it off as slurring, but I wasn't so inebriated that I missed the slight hesitation at finishing that sentence. _Now I know what the human term 'vixen' means._ I also knew that my willpower wasn't doing so great. Remembering all too well where our last sparring match had ended off wasn't helping, as was the realization that consent probably wasn't going to be a problem, either, under the circumstances.

All of a sudden, I regretted my little comment to her about Alenko and rape, because it was pretty obvious that forcing her while under the effects of rum wasn't an issue. In fact, I was pretty sure if Udina showed up to give her a piece of his mind right then, she'd be trying to jump _him._

That mental image was _way_ more than I wanted to envision. It was disturbing enough that she apparently decided I was too distracted, as she locked her gaze with mine while slowly unbuttoning her pants.

 _I can't watch this._ I knew it was stupid, and it would piss her off, but I turned my back on her in order to avoid any further teasing she might attempt. _She is SO going to owe me in the morning,_ I thought.

At that moment, I felt a cool pair of hands encircle my waist, tugging at my shirt-band again. "You made _me_ take mine off. It's only fair if you take off yours, Officer Vakarian."

I thought I had iron control when it came to these sorts of situations. Teandra was making me realize just how wrong I was, and I _hate_ being wrong. "Take your damn hands off me, woman. I'm warning you."

"Or what? You're gonna spank me for being a bad girl?" she said coyly.

"Don't tempt me." I swear, she should _not_ have know turian triggers so well. She _really_ shouldn't have. I yanked away from her touch, turning and backing up to escape her reach. As if of their own accord, my eyes took in the fact that she _had_ managed to remove her jeans before drunkenly assaulting me. Any attempt to avert my eyes failed as they kept jumping back to the silver, matching undergarments. As if she could sense my resolve slipping with the newest development, or maybe because of my hasty retreat from her touch, she laughed.

"Little girl's getting the better of you again, huh?"

"You know what, Teandra? You're just damn lucky I'm such an honorable man. That's all I'm saying."

"And what if I told you I wished you weren't?" She stepped forward, forcing my back against the wall as I mirrored her. She chuckled as I pulled up short. "Your clothes are just as wet as mine. Off." The look in her eyes made it very clear that the state of my clothes had very little to do with why she wanted them gone.

 _Okay, time to change tactics._ That was how she and I always operated, after all: Adapt and overcome.

"Fine, I'll make you a deal, little Spectre. I'll get undressed once you're in bed. That's the deal. " The nickname was meant to remind her of who she was with. Maybe there was a way to break through her mental view of this whole crazy situation.

"Nope, you first."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine, but only my tunic." I wish I could say it was all for the sake of compromise, but I had _very_ practical reasons for the deal being that way. The whole damn scenario was embarrassing, but worse was that in spite of all my denials, it was also _arousing._ The idea of what she would do if she realized she'd managed to get beneath my plating?

I did not want to go there. Period. I complied with her half of the demands, but apparently not fast enough for the siren in front of me. As my top cleared my shoulders, during that brief moment when I couldn't see her, _that's_ when she started fighting dirty.

The first thing I noticed was a warm sensation tracing it's way up a spacing in my chest plating.

 _Huh? That sneaky little..._ I tried to back up farther, only to remember the wall was in my way. I finished removing my shirt, looking down hesitantly to figure out what the hell she was doing. Red hair, still wildly mussed from getting her _into_ this damn room, was the first thing to fill my vision. The next thing was her eyes watching for my reaction, something that I found weird in and of itself. Let's just say that partner satisfaction is _not_ on the average turian woman's priority list. But the one thing that caught my attention completely was her tongue running delicately along the edges of my plates one by one, and in spite of the complete and total _alienness_ of the sensations, it felt damn wonderful. That small, soft, pink organ became the full focus of my attention, a fact that did not escape hers, if her throaty chuckle was any indication. She teased her way upward, and I allowed myself to enjoy the (comparatively) innocent direction her actions had taken.

 _She's not running through the halls naked, and she's not trying to cure Kaidan's migraine with sex. All in all, you're doing pretty well at this caretaker thing..._ a thought that was interrupted by her hands at my belt.

 _Okay, maybe not_.

As much as I'd like to claim I was completely immune the her charms, I'd have been lying to myself if I didn't admit that for a minute, I actually considered it. _Seriously_ considered it. It lasted until she moved her mouth upwards as her hands struggled with what was apparently an overly complicated buckle for her normally nimble fingers. She tried to kiss me, and the action caused me to realize we were both in over our heads.

The strangeness of her trying to imitate the moves she'd have taken with a human lover made it quite clear neither of us had **any** idea how to make this work, or if it even **would** work. We didn't even know if we were physically compatible, or if there was some quirk about dextro/levo that we weren't privy to...

Nothing was worth the possibility of losing her, be it to complicated emotions or accidental, irreversible physical harm.

 _Now to try to explain that to_ her _. That should be easy. Ri-ight_.

"Teandra, you need to stop." She ignored me, or maybe she didn't hear me. I placed a taloned hand on each of her shoulders, gently pushing her away and looking her in the face.

"Stop. Now. I mean it." I don't know if she responded to my insistence, or maybe the authority in my voice, but something broke through just enough for her to realize what she was doing. Problem being, she still didn't care.

"But, why, Garrus? _Why_ should we stop?"

"I'm not going there. It should be enough that I'm saying, 'No.'"

Her hands balled up into fists, which she (thankfully) rested on her hips, tilting her head slightly as she glared at me. "You're a damn tease, Vakarian. If this is how you want to play it, I'm going to track down Liara."

 _So much for ditching her 'Chicks dig me' t-shirt,_ I thought, not sure if wanting to strangle my best friend was the healthiest of thought processes. At that moment, however, the urge was nearly palpable. As she moved towards the door, still _barely clothed_ I might add, I made a decision.

"Get your ass into that bed, Teandra. Now." She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around slowly, grinning at me as she moved towards the king-size four poster. "Change your mind, did you?" I didn't respond. She laughed, obviously thinking she had me beaten. I followed as she crawled up onto the mattress and sprawled out on the bedspread much as she had a few minutes before, looking up at me demurely. She was determined to break me, wasn't she?

Well, not today, little girl. _Not_ today.

 _Need to make this convincing_... I thought, moving to follow her. I straddled her, not even attempting to hide the bodily reactions she'd elicited in order to cement the idea in her head that she'd won. I moved upwards, allowing my talons to caress up her arms, causing her eyes to close as she enjoyed the sensation. Then...

 _Click_. The distinctive sound of my oft-abused handcuffs closing over her wrist and the bedpost at the same time instantly snapped her out of the moment. She looked at me.

"Kinky, Officer Vakarian. What else you got planned?"

"Nothing except a shower." And I walked away, leaving her there in hopes she would be passed the hell out by the time I got back. _Not as good as a closet, but it'll do. Now for a_ cold _shower._

Mercifully, as I exited the bathroom, she _was._ The fact that she had the ability to appear completely innocent in slumber after everything she'd been up to? Well, _that_ , was irony for you.

Briefly, I considered trying to find my way into her room to sleep, but the mental exhaustion of the evening coupled by the last of my own drunkenness decided the sleeping arrangements. I threw on just enough clothes for propriety's sake, lay down next to her, and realized I was about to make what could potentially be a fatal mistake.

She never went anywhere without her switchblade. The fact that I hadn't seen it even in her semi-nude state didn't mean _shit._ It was on her somewhere, and I had to figure out where. Granted, there were only a few spots it could be hiding in, but that still meant I was going to have to paw around in places that I'd been adamantly trying to avoid previously.

 _Do I really need her switchblade?_ _It's not like she'd ever_ actually _hurt me, no matter how badly I'd screwed up..._ A mental image of waking up with it at my throat made that decision for me.

I lifted myself up on one elbow and leaned over her, trying to figure out where to search first. Logically, it would have to be somewhere that she could access in a hurry, should she find she feel threatened. So...

 _If I never have to do this again, it will be too soon,_ I thought as I reached between her breasts while trying to avert my eyes at the same time. A small, happy whine from her as I hit something sensitive caused me to jump. _Definitely too soon._

I quickly withdrew my hand from no-man's land and tossed the offending weapon into the drawer of the nightstand. I felt her shift behind me, and for fear of her finding some way to slip the cuffs, I rolled back over and draped an arm across her slight frame as I drifted off to sleep.

Groping your drunk best friend: worst, or best, way to end the night ever.

* * *

* * *

* * *


	27. Epilogue - Lacuna

**Epilogue-** _**Lacuna** _

Two weeks.

Two grueling, torturous, _aching_ weeks.

In two weeks, I'd mastered more than one of the nuances required to be an expert sniper. In two weeks, Jackson and Elayne had taught us to dance both salsa and swing like pros. In two weeks, I had finished all three books in Maria Snyder's _Study_ series with stars in my eyes, for the first time in my life considering that _perhaps_ there could be a heart-mate for everyone.

And in two weeks, I learned just how empty my life was without Garrus Vakarian in it.

Not altogether unexpected, all things considered. He'd even seemed embarrassed about his decision to return to the Citadel, acting as if he were abandoning me. The notion alone made me snort with derisive humor. That would probably make him the first man who had ever considered my feelings _before_ leaving.

If any other man had actually ever considered my feelings at all.

" _Last chance, Garrus." I cock back one hip, arms crossed, "You can still stay, if that's what you really want." It is the closest he'll get to me objecting to his departure. I know why I am letting him go, that it is for the best, but that doesn't make it any easier. As I stare out over the railing of the spaceport, taking in the view of the battered Citadel, I reflect on the harsh reality of that reasoning. How had Kate Winslet put it?_

"He needs a chance to fall out of love with me."

_To have a chance to get away from my poisoned existence, full of evil, danger, and heartbreak. To have a chance to leave before my callous nature can taint the wonderfully naive core that makes him who he is. Have a chance to collect himself before I have to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that the one thing he wants from me is the one thing I can never give to anyone. Not even to him. I'm not kidding when I say that he deserves better than me._

_And I sure as hell don't deserve_ him.

" _It's not you, it's me." Isn't that the guy's standard line?_

 _Besides, the fact of the matter is he_ never _does anything for himself. He's always putting everyone else's needs first: Mishta, Shelaya, Solana, his parents. (_ _ **Especially**_ _fucking Castis. Spirits how I hate that man, and I've never even spoken to him.) And me; let's not forget the worst of the bunch. It's time for_ _ **his**_ _dreams to become a reality, something that_ _ **I**_ _now have the power to make happen._

" _Do you want me to stay, Teandra? Say the word and you know I will." It's like he can tell what I'm thinking, just like always. It helps to strengthen my resolve that he is, in no uncertain terms, offering to put himself last, yet again._

" _Not a chance. I'm tired of having to recalibrate the food synthesizer every time you and Tali get in a fight." He rolls his eyes, and I go on, "Besides, I went through all this trouble to get you a present and everything." With a flourish, I open the case I brought with me, displaying my barely broken in HMWSR. "It'll be your backup when I'm not there. I_ _ **hate**_ _the thought of you being at the mercy of those barefaced idiots on the Council."_

_His eyes light up as he examines it, latching onto the silver symbols on the stock. "What do these mean? They look like your tattoo."_

" _Ixian battle symbols. You'll figure them out. Eventually." I laugh at his consternation, knowing he will probably NEVER figure them out unless he manages to get his hands on_ Poison Study, _which has been out of print for decades. I find it fitting, considering that he is the only person who_ _truly makes me consider that the stories themes might be more than a writer's fancy. And any aggravation he experiences while trying to decipher them? Well, it will make great payback for the morning after that party._

_After a moment of consideration, he smiles with relish at the challenge, and we embrace one last time. He has to go. The hug lingers for a moment, and I inhale sharply, taking in his scent in hopes of imprinting it in my memory. It has always clung to me after every sparring match, a salty and sweet fragrance that makes me think of the beaches back home combined with my favorite cinnamon candy._

_Then, I pull away, recrossing my arms to keep from launching myself at him, from pressing my request more fully that he stay._ It's for the best; just let him go, Teandra.

" _Hey, look at it this way, little Spectre," he says. "We don't even know if they'll take me as a candidate." He has no clue why I laugh as I walked away, glancing back one more time as the door closes with a_ hiss _._

They'd accept him, alright. I looked at the datapad in my hands, the latest diplomatic mission specs. It was one of many I'd threatened to "misplace" along with dozens of others if his candidacy wasn't given priority treatment and approved. Councilor Sparatus hadn't been too pleased by that conversation, especially not my sarcasm, and I suspected that it would come back to bite me in the ass one day. But they owed me, and I was calling in my marker. Garrus would get the life he'd always wanted, even if I had to twist a thousand arms and stomp on a million toes to make it happen.

That was the last thing I thought about before the _Normandy_ exploded, fire enveloping me from every direction.

* * *

The vastness of space surrounded me, the cold permeating my suit already as I continued to attempt to calm myself. _No problem. The suit's insulated..._ But even as I thought it another explosion came from the direction of the _Normandy_ , the shock-wave wrenching something within the armor. Sensors went off everywhere, and I knew instinctively that _this_ was it. I was going to die from some freak accident, after everything I'd been through. I would have laughed if I had the air to spare.

_Think... control your breathing... it's not over yet._

_In-_ the survival instinct overwhelmed me, forcing me to grab for the connection to my breather at the back of my neck, fumbling and finding no purchase.

 _Out-_ I thought of the _Normandy,_ and wondered whether Joker had made it, knowing the sacrifice wasn't for nothing if he had.

 _In-_ I watched the debris pass me by almost lazily, as if in defiance of my life slipping away.

 _Out_ \- I thought of myself, and knew I'd only get one more breath.

 _In-_ My mind cried out for the last thing I'd ever have expected, despairing, "Garrus, I don't want to die **alone** out here!"

 _Out_ \- I heard his voice, clear as that first day we'd met on the steps of the audience chamber, saying, "I'm here, little Spectre. I'm here..." The warm embrace of his arms surrounded me, completely driving the cold away.

At the sound, peace overwhelmed me, and I allowed my world to fade to black.


	28. Glossary of Terms

**Word-Meaning-Root Culture**

afeni - dear one (human - swahili)

ben'jee - stupid asshole (turian)

birsh'tat - strong insult against a female: human equivalent: cunt/bitch (turian)

boska - cow/bull type animal from Palaven with six legs (turian)

boskaverna - bullshit (turian)

bostarta - nutrient bar/power bar (turian)

chacha - powdered dextro seasoning

Darshira - hunter (turian)

ferazah - son of an ugly varren (batarian)

gri'darshiri - little huntress (turian)

kilaka - sweet and sour berry like fruit, dextro based (similar to kiwi in flavoe.  Pale blue)

lishta/lishka (male/female)- predatorial catlike creature, but scaled; native to Palaven (turian)

Lorcana - little fierce one/reference to turian folk lore (turian)

 _Mich’vol rynta tronita_ \- (in old turian) roughly, " In the tongue of our ancients"; shortened version: _rynta vol_ , or old tongue

pashar - bitter nutrient paste (turian)

pika-pooka - little warrior one (turian)

ritala - turian dish consisting of root vegetables and meats with sauce (turian)

riza - fuck (turian)

sashita - attractive (sexy) one, depending on context (turian)

shira - cute, cuddly thing (turian)

shira - illegitimate son of a Varren (quarian)

shatha - large predator on Palaven, taking multiple hunters to kill

spi'rata - older brother (quarian)

Tandy (short for 'Thandie') - means 'loved one' (human - Swahili (Zulu))

verna - shit/excrement (turian)

vor'net - whipped/pussy/at another's beck and call (turian)

walar - palm sized bright red flying insect- like a hornet or bee (turian)

warbla - dried plant flakes, used as dextro seasoning

zibi - orange dextro based tubular root vegetable


End file.
